The Protection of Her Patroness
by Elsa007
Summary: When her father falls ill, Lizzy is forced to marry the seemingly harmless Mr. Collins. Unfortunately not all is as it seems with the parson, and a simple marriage of convenience turns dangerous. Lizzy finds shelter in a great Lady who has suffered similar humiliations, but when her nephew comes to visit, the game begins to change.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I am behind on literally all of my stories, so why I'm starting a new one is beyond me. But this story won't stay inside my head! Story-wide trigger warnings: Domestic abuse, rape, some language, mainly physical/sexual abuse.**

 **Prologue**

* * *

 **Fitzwilliam Darcy**

It was the fact that she was in conversation with Elizabeth that drew me to Caroline Bingley's shrew voice in the first place, but it was the words she was saying which made me hate her all the more. Not that I ever needed a reason to despise her attentions.

"When are we to officially wish you well, Miss Bennet?" What in the hell did that even mean? Because it sounded as though Elizabeth had gone and gotten herself engaged which I knew for a fact was impossible. I knew this, because up until very recently, I had been trying to find a way to let her know that I could not offer for her, and that she would need to let loose any intentions she'd had in my direction. Elizabeth was not the sort of woman who would allow the affections of more than one man. It was insurmountable.

"Official or not, you may as well wish them. The banns are to be read beginning this Sunday."

"And the date?"

"One month from this Sunday, as well. As soon as possible."

"Eager to begin married life then!" Caroline needed to be silenced. She spoke gibberish often, but today she made even less sense.

"My mother seems to agree. She is furious I will not allow her longer to plan a more elaborate ceremony, but I hardly think it appropriate to begin life as the wife of a parson with an extravagant party when the money might be better spent on those in need, do you not think, Miss Bingley?"

"It is a credit to you that you think so, Miss Elizabeth." The anger in Caroline's tone towards Elizabeth was seemingly gone. The pair used to fight in a battle of wits, a battle in which Caroline was often unarmed. Yet now... she flattered Elizabeth.

"I thank you, madam." Elizabeth nodded in return. I could feel how deeply my brow was furrowed, but how could it not be? For all the education I'd received as a gentleman of the highest standard, I was hopelessly lost in this conversation.

"Well Mr. Darcy?" Caroline interrupted my thoughts. "Aren't you going to wish Miss Elizabeth joy?"

"I'm afraid I haven't the privilege of understanding you, madam." I finally managed to eek out.

"Oh! But you must have heard the news!"

"I've been riding all morning. If the news is recent, I am afraid I have not." I glanced at Elizabe- MISS Elizabeth, dammit man - and noticed that she was flushed a shade of peach and her eyes were decidedly pointed away from me.

"Miss Elizabeth! You must tell him at once!" Was Miss Bingley incapable of telling me then? Was such a simple explanation for what this confounded conversation was about beyond her?

"I am to be married, Mr. Darcy."

.

.

.

"You are..."

"To be married." She finished for me, her words short and succinct. Wickham. This had his name written all over it. He would promise to marry her, make a show of their engagement, and then break it off at the last minute, not only wasting all of the Bennet's money, but also spreading a story that would ruin poor Elizabeth, making it impossible for a man of my circle to marry her - not that I was of course. I had just listed all the reasons that I could not wed Miss Elizabeth. Still, he was doing this to get back at me. I would have to protect her, protect her honor. Perhaps it was my duty as a gentleman to offer for her instead and to-

"Mr. Collins is a lucky man indeed, Miss Elizabeth." Miss Bingley stated gregariously. "You will make him a fine wife."

"Mr. Collins." I spat out. It was now that her eyes shot to mine, a source of anger behind them.

"I beg your pardon, sir." She spat back. "But it quite sounds to me as though you are disparaging a member of my family. My cousin if naught else, but now, my betrothed. I shall have to assume that you did not mean to express such a tone." That fire in her eyes. The odious fool did not deserve to bask in it's heat, let alone to possess it.

"You must forgive me, Miss Elizabeth." I bowed shortly. "No offense was meant. There was something caught in my throat and I am afraid my address came out more harshly than it was intended."

"Perhaps Miss Bingley might fetch you some water then." She replied, not believing a word of it. Miss Bingley, of course, was all too happy to serve me, and as such, rushed off to do just that, all the while Miss Elizabeth's eyes bored into mine angrily.

"We are alone sir. Perhaps you might tell me what you might have meant by your outburst earlier." She spoke quietly, so that her sister and Charles would not hear from where they sat on the settee across the room.

"I assure you, I didn't-"

"Don't insult my intelligence." She said simply. This conversation will not leave the two of us, you may as well speak frankly.

"I..." I really shouldn't say a thing. I should leave it. I shouldn't get involved. I- "I find myself surprised that you would connect yourself with such a man, Miss Elizabeth."

"My cousin, I'll remind you."

"You are hardly at an age where one must settle for kind, family connections, Miss Elizabeth."

"And I hardly understand why you take such interest in my affairs. You do not approve of me. I hardly think that warrants such censure of another on your part."

"Censure? I beg your pardon, but I haven't the slightest idea of what you are saying."

"You find me barely tolerable, and yet you have decided that I am too tolerable for Mr. Collins? I find myself confused." Her words struck me like a knife. I'd had no idea she'd even overheard me. I hadn't been thinking of her when I'd spoken. I had been so miserable about leaving Georgiana so soon after Ramsgate, that I had been determined to stay alone all evening. I hadn't meant to... wait. Did this mean that she thought I despised her? Had she not been expecting my attentions at all? Was that why she had connected herself to the abominable Mr. Collins?

"I must beg your forgiveness, Miss Elizabeth. Those words were not meant for you, only to make an excuse to Bingley. I never meant-"

"Regardless of your disdain for me, sir, I still fail to understand what Mr. Collins has done to earn such censure."

"He is a fool."

"And again you insult my intended."

"He deserves it."

"What has he done that has offended you so? His impertinence at the ball aside, I hardly think that-"

"His impertinence was in offering for you!" I hissed. She looked taken aback.

"You are... so completely above him in every way and I am confounded-"

"My eldest sister and I have sworn that nothing but the strongest of loves will induce us to matrimony." She broke in. This surprised me. I glanced at Miss Bennet and my friend, and I began to question my earlier assumption that she was only after his wealth.

"Mama was furious when the third son of a duke offered for her and she refused him, but it is a promise we have made to one another. As such, you can assume that the vow we swore was a serious one. You are a smart man, Mr. Darcy. What might you presume of that information and my subsequent promise to marry the man?"

"I don't believe you."

"I am marrying for love, Mr. Darcy. And I hope that the same can be said for all of my sisters."

"Elizabeth,"

"I don't recall giving you permission to address me so formally, sir. Please refrain from doing so."

"I've some tea for you, Mr. Darcy." Dear God the harpy was back. "Specially brewed for your throat sir."

"Forgive me, Miss Bingley." Elizab- Miss Elizabeth interrupted. "I'm afraid I must return home. Might Jane stay for another hour or two? I am perfectly capable of walking and she can use our carriage when she wishes to return."

"Of course, Miss Elizabeth. Jane is always welcome here."

And with a curtsy, Elizabeth Bennet walked out of my life.

* * *

 **Elizabeth Bennet**

It wasn't a lie. Not really. I had sworn I was only marrying for the deepest of loves. And truly, what love could be deeper than that for my sisters? I loved my sisters dearly. I loved Longborn with all my heart. I was marrying for love - the love of my family, and that was enough for me. Collins was harmless. He convinced himself that he was the dominate one in any relationship, but in our matching of wits, I found I was able to persuade him often to think of things in my way. Knowing my love of nature, he had assured me countless times that I would find the walking paths at Rosings beyond compare.

I didn't have it in my to admit that with my father's current failing health, it was unlikely we would live at Rosings long before returning home and taking on responsibility as Mistress and Master of the house. I nearly gagged at the thought of Mr. Collins changing my father's study. But it was no matter. It was how the world worked. Things could be far, far worse. I looked down at the crisp pale dress, and smoothed my skirt. I was getting married today. Today, my life would change irrevocably. I resisted the urge to sob, set my features in a forced smile, and made my way down the stairs to meet my family. In a matter of hours I would be Elizabeth Bennet no more. I would be Mrs. William Collins.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Well? I know it's a shortie but it's just the prologue! I'll have the next chapter up presently! I hope you enjoy - PLEASE review or PM me! I'd love to know what you're hoping to see happen, and what you are thinking! Critique is the best way to improve writing so throw it at me! xoxo - E**


	2. Chapter 2

**UPDATE** **: 'Your Grace' mistake has been fixed.**

* * *

 **Author's Note: Wow! Thank you all for the incredible feedback! I really felt like that was not my best work but I just wanted to get it down on paper and then you were all so kind about it! (I am hoping on improving the level of writing in this story soon - my head is a bit full and flustered lately and my writing seems to be reflecting that.) There were a few comments I wanted to respond to right away:**

Guest #1: I'm not sure why it being someone else suddenly makes a rape story 'okay' to you... rape is rape whether or not its a main character or a mention of a pronoun. It's an awful thing and that's why I wanted to put that warning in right off the bat - people who are triggered by it are going to want to stay away from this story. Unfortunately, in this time period where women were not legally (or otherwise) protected from there husbands, there was a lot of de facto rape, with unwilling women, or women without a choice. That will be described or mentioned several times from here on forward. I'm not sure anyone can imagine Lizzy willingly submitting to Mr. Collins... particularly the OOC Mr. Collins who is drafted in this story as abusive and vindictive, so yes, this is another "rape for Elizabeth story". It isn't meant to be enjoyable. It isn't meant to be a good plot twist or situational necessity, it's a dark part of the story where I work out some personal issues in the form of fiction. If it is not something you are going to be able to read, I might suggest another story for you! (And I do have suggestions so feel free to hmu for that!)

Guest #2: Interesting! I think "She will gag for real" might be a massive understatement in regards to her physical relationship with Collins:) Things are about to get hella dark. And kind of disjointed so I apologize for that!

 **Okay! Now that that crazy long A/N is done... onto the story!**

* * *

 **Elizabeth Benent**

I fidgeted with my collar, trying to hide the worst of it. It had been two weeks since my husband's anger took a more physical turn. He had tried to control me at first, perhaps if I'd just given in I wouldn't be in this situation, but I knew deep down that even knowing this, I still would have ventured out against his wishes to visit poor Felicity and her newborn. The girl was a part of our parish, and the babe in her arms had been her uncle's idea, and certainly not hers. She was alone, and without income, with a newborn to care for. It had been my duty, as the parson's wife in her parish, to bring her food, and a blanket I had knitted for the child. It was the last straw for my husband, the shame he thought I had brought upon his family, the embarrassment he imagined he might receive from Lady Catherine. It had been too much.

 _He paced back and forth before the fireplace, words escaping his lips in nonsensical order, forming no sentences, only a clear indication of his rage. As verbose as he often was, it was when he was angry that his words began to blend, and become unintelligible. He often raged, ranted, yelled at me and attempted to forbid me from one thing or another. My books had long since been taken away. Any pin money I'd been promised had to be applied for and receipts shown upon purchases. I knew I'd be punished for this. He had expressly told me I was forbidden. But it had been the right thing to do. I awaited whatever he might imagine to restrict me to next with something akin to boredom. William ran his hands through his hair and glared at me, his eyes alight with a mortified fire. A chill ran over me and I suddenly became aware that this was worse, so, so much worse._

 _"You insolent cow." He swore in a fit. "What will my patroness say?"_

 _"Your patroness is a great champion of the poor and destitute women." I pointed out. "She donates to their charities annually." He stepped forward and I resisted the urge to flinch away. The spittle forming in the corner of his lips repelled off his skin, landing on mine with each venom filled word._

 _"The meek, and unfortunate. Not the sinners destined for hell." He pulled at his hair once more, his eyes roaming the room senselessly. "I shall be shamed. I shall be put out. You do not deserve the role of my wife!"_

 _"Then perhaps you should not have insisted upon it!" I snarled back, instantly regretting my words as his hand lay across my cheek with a smart smacking sound echoing around our room._

 _"I understand now." He shook his head rampantly. He looked every bit the part of a mad man. "I never understood why my father would beat my mother." Every muscle in my body clenched and I shivered in true fear for the first time. "But now, now I understand." He turned his back to me._

 _"Please." I said simply, unsure what I was asking for._

 _"You will learn, wife. And once you have, you shall beg Lady Catherine's forgiveness. If she sees fit to grant it to you, perhaps you might have mine. But you shall fix this."_

 _"I will." I swore. "I promise, sir. I will go to Lady Catherine and I shall prostrate myself. I will do better."_

 _"Your words are empty. You still do not understand. You still must learn." When he turned around, there was a leather strap in his hand. I didn't have time to wonder what it was, or where he had gotten in from at such short notice before it began to strike me._

"Mrs. Elizabeth!" Maggie, our servant girl called out, shaking me from the memory with a jolt. "I found the article!" She rushed forward with a copy of a magazine she'd referenced last week. "Here, how to improve complexion and hide dark spots. This woman uses a moisturizer or salve on the area and powders it with a mixture of rice powder and a tinted powder she gets in town and it covers her birthmark. I'd imagine it would do the same for a bruise." I smiled kindly at the young girl.

"You are a Godsend. I shall write to my sister Jane, and ask for her to find me such a powder. She is in London now, she may be able to procure some for me, and my husband will hardly find anything amiss if my sister sends some toiletries!" She nodded enthusiastically. We had just been using rice powder to hid the more obvious marks my husband cared to leave on my skin, to teach me my lessons, but with my skin slightly more tan than most ladies, it was a bit... obvious. And it made me look washed out, and sickly. A mixture of tinted powder might just do the trick!

"Wife! We must away!" My husband called out joyfully. He was always joyful when we were invited to Rosings for dinner. Perhaps his joy would radiate into another few days wherein I might be left alone.

The dinner was as was expected. My husband groveled like a dog, and Lady Catherine enjoyed seeing how much influence she could wield in making his do so. She wasn't unlike my father in this, manipulating those around her and playing games with the lives of others. It wasn't as pardonable when a wrong turn ended in my punishment. I was quieter than usual, and unfortunately, Lady Catherine took notice. I deferred to her in ever matter, and did not put up a fight, or argue with her points in a debate. She almost seemed... disappointed.

"Mr. Collins!" She projected haughtily as dinner was cleared away. "It is time for the gentleman and ladies to separate for our evening." His brow furrowed. When it was only him, Lady Catherine never bothered to separate the sexes after dinner, she usually just dismissed the pair of us.

"But I-"

"But?" She asked, lording her presence once more. My husband fell silent and bowed, taking his leave to the Brandy room, alone. "Anne, you look tired. Perhaps Mrs. Jenkinson might take you to your room." Anne obeyed, but I noticed the confused look she shot in my direction. I liked Anne a great deal. She was not nearly so sickly as Lady Catherine often pontificated about, but she was a softer, meeker sort of girl. She almost reminded me of Mary, but not so... dour. Anne had a softness, and a shyness, but she was not an unhappy girl. On occasion, she could be convinced to join us for cards, or to enter into a conversation where she showed that quiet she may be, but she was also wildly intelligent, and was always listening to what others had to say.

"Mrs. Collins, may I be frank?" Lady Catherine asked as the door closed behind us.

"I would prefer it, My Lady." I replied honestly, after a moment of deliberation. Without another word, she gripped my chin in her heavily ringed hand, and tipped my head up toward the light, her other hand pulling at the high neckline of the dress I chose to wear, exposing the bruises I hadn't covered with anything more than cloth. She sighed.

"I thought as much."

"Your Ladyship, it is not what you are-"

"Do not insult my intelligence, girl, and I shall not insult yours. I knew the man was a fool but I thought him harmless. I much prefer a harmless fool to a devious one. And now I've gone and given him the living for life." She swore colorfully and my eyes widened. "You know the law, Mrs. Collins. There isn't aught to be done on that end." I nodded.

"It isn't so bad, your ladyship."

"There are several layers of bruises here. This has happened more than once?" I nodded. "Only on your face and neck, or..." She trailed off. When I didn't answer, she took matters into her own hands once again and most literally, picking up my skirts and looking at my legs. Taking in the clear marks I hadn't bothered to conceal, she did not flinch away or look in shock, she just nodded.

"Your Ladyship," I entreated her, for what I knew not.

"I think Catherine will do very well for when we are alone." She said simply, dropping my garments back in place. "I have some salve that is very helpful. My maid shall deliver it to yours in secret. Maddie? Is that her name?"

"Maggie."

"Is she discrete? Is she loyal to your husband or-"

"Me, Your- Catherine. She has proven herself to most diligent in her care of me after these... events. Her mother worked for Mr. Collins' father. The woman suffered a similar abuse." Lady Catherine clicked her tongue and let out another puff of air angrily.

"Very well. My maid will bring her the salve for you. I might also advice a different type of cloth for your underthings." I flushed.

"A different-"

"Wool may be warm but fibers which get stuck in dried blood are not comfortable to pull out. If you cannot afford silk, I would at least suggest cotton. The winters here at Rosings are not so cold as for it to be unbearable. An extra layer, a shall, an extra blanket at night, should more than make up for it." I nodded and the picture that was being painted began to grow very clear. Lady Catherine spoke from personal experience.

"Elizabeth. If things grow to a point of true danger, if you fear for your life, send Maggie to us. I shall tell your husband that Anne is ill and I am in desperate need of you. It is not a trick I'd like to use too often or he may realize what we are about. But my dear," She gripped my hand tightly. "You know as well as I, that while the law doesn't protect us, we can protect ourselves. You can learn him, better than anyone, learn to manipulate him. Learn to protect yourself from the worst."

"I do not wish to bend to what he asks of me."

"You must make him think that what you want was his idea all the while." I nodded. "There is a tea, Elizabeth. It does not make it impossible to conceive, but it will reduce your chances. Is that something you might-"

"Yes. I refuse to allow a child into all of this." She nodded.

"That was my mistake with Anne." She replied softly. "Thankfully, he died before she was old enough to remember any of it. I shall not let her marry unless I am certain that the man in question would never lay a hand on her." She puffed up her chest. "I have such a man in mind for her. He will marry her, and she will be safe." She took my hand in hers. "We will get through this together my girl, but you won't do it cowering in a corner and refusing to step up to the challenge. The Elizabeth Collins I met when she walked into my home, was a fighter. She rose at every attempt to intimidate her. She can withstand this storm. The meeker version cannot. You aught decide now what you are made of. This is a long fight ahead of us, child."

Months passed, and Catherine and I formed an odd sort of friendship. She took me in when my eye was bloodied shut, insisting that the Parson's wife must be in attendance when her poor child was so ill. Anne and I spent the whole week together as I recuperated, and just like that, I'd discovered another friend at Rosings. I practiced, and grew better at controlling my husband. He still broke, from time to time, but I had more freedom to visit the tenants, and care for them as I wished. I had more freedom to go on walks, provided that I was walking with Anne, or one of the visiting ladies to Rosings. Catherine always allowed it. Maggie was a Godsend. She carried messages back and forth to the maids at Rosings for me, she smuggled letters to my family out when I didn't want my husband to approve them - or in most cases, disapprove them and throw them in the fire - she helped tend to any wounds I received at his hand, and she procured methods of contraception for me, that I might not bear a child. She too, became one of my closest friends.

Catherine was right, giving up my spirit may be what my husband desired of me, but it was the very thing that would loose me this fight. And I was here to win. I would triumph over him. Elizabeth Bennet would not make way for Mrs. Collins. She would rise.

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 **A/N: Like I said earlier - I apologize for this disjointed story. Hopefully it will straighten itself out over time!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Thanks to the reviewer who pointed out the mistake of referring to Lady Catherine as 'Your Grace'. That has been fixed in that chapter and in the following! I appreciate the correction! Thanks for all the reviews! I'm sorry Lizzy got the short stick this time around... but as she's my main character that's kind of just how that went. Keep the reviews and suggestions coming! Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Fitzwilliam Darcy**

The carriage bounced along sporadically along the muddy spring roads, and I could hear the noise of splattering mud from the wheels against the carriage box. The sound was clear and steady, like a drum. I focused on this noise rather than that of my cousin's constant chirping about this matter or that. He'd taken to gossiping about a letter his father had received from Aunt Catherine and I had tuned him out completely.

I never wanted to come to Rosings. It was a duty, one of the many jobs I had taken on from my father when he became unable. It was one of the most dreadful times of the year. This year, however, was going to be far, far worse.

The woman who haunted my dreams was going to be there, in the flesh, claiming to love that fool she'd gone and married. He didn't deserve her. There wasn't a man I'd met who deserved her. Hell, _I_ didn't deserve her. Our conversation after my learning of her engagement had brought certain things to light. The fact that she despised me, for one, although that wasn't something that she had said directly, it was something I'd heard Hurst and Charles talking about that night. She thought I found her... unattractive, unappealing. I had thought, arrogantly, that she must have been waiting for my formal addresses, all the while, she had held me in contempt, and thought I considered her likewise. Arrogant, idiotic fool.

I had thought with her marriage and our subsequent separation, I would need not think on her a moment longer, that she would disappear like smoke in the wind. I hadn't realized that she was the wind. Wind that whispered on sunny days, making me long for her laugh on the breeze, wind that howled when I was cold and lonely, longing for her, and only her. I'd tried to forget her. On my cousin, the viscount's ill advice, I'd visited a brothel to forget her. I'd barely gotten through the front door when a young woman with curled brown hair sidled up to me and I all but wept. The Madam had fixed me a cup of tea, and sent me on my way, reminding me that a quick bought of pleasure didn't heal a broken heart. Separation, and the impossibility of her being a parson's wife be damned, she was in my mind often, and in my heart constantly. But she was never really there. And now she would be at my fingertips, but still so out of reach.

I wasn't sure I could bear to see them together, the picture of domesticity. her in a parson's wife's demure clothing when I could have showered her with everything her heart desired, and given her gowns that would have shown what a jewel she was.

I sighed loudly. That was half the reason I adored her, of course, none of that mattered to her. She didn't want jewels and money, or a fancy home, she just wanted love, and that would be the part that would hurt most of all. I couldn't watch her love him.

* * *

 **Elizabeth Collins**

"Maggie! Hurry!" I called out as quietly as I could manage. "He'll be furious if we're late to dinner!" The maid hastened into my room, a jar of salve and some rice powder mixed with a tinted powder I had begged from my sister Jane for Christmas. It worked a charm to hide the bruises without making me look like a common prostitute when mixed with the rice powder. She began to quickly work at the marks on my cheek, as I pulled up the lace around my neckline, hoping it might shadow out the fading bruise around my neck where he'd grabbed me last week. Thank God we were going to Rosings. Lady Catherine always knew exactly how to calm the man, and how to compliment me so that I might please him. Thank God for Catherine.

We hastened across the front lawn as my husband practiced a few choice phrases he might use in Lady Catherine's presence this evening, spending extra time on it all, as she apparently had guests. I pulled at my neckline. I was running low on powder, and I didn't want to waste it on anything that wasn't obviously visible, but I felt naked with the finger marks on my neck covered only with a bit of lace. The footman took our coats, and I held my head high, taking Collins' arm, and allowing him to escort me into the room.

Mrs. Jenkinson was playing the piano while Catherine and Anne sat huddled on a settee.

"Mr. Collins! Mrs. Collins!" She called to us as her footman announced our presence. "Please. Join us." My husband instantly went and paid his respects, bowing awkwardly, and praising her kindness and good nature. When he moved on to Anne, I sunk into a low curtsy, perfectly capable for the first time in a while, as Collins had not whipped my legs or torso for quite some time.

"Lady Catherine," I addressed her warmly, and formally, as I always did in company.

"Mrs. Collins." She returned. "I hope you will play for us this evening."

"If your Ladyship wishes it I should be glad to take on the task." I returned with a smile. This was another of her schemes. She insisted that I had passable talent, but needed much more practice to become truly proficient at the craft of music. As such, she made Mr. Collins promise to send me to Rosings often to take up the act of practicing. Eager to please her, whenever I was not otherwise occupied, I was sent off to Rosings to practice, and play piano for Anne and Mrs. Jenkinson. Anne would laugh at my mistakes, and suggest new music for me to try. It was a ruse, a method to get me away from his displeasure, but I was actually becoming quite proficient.

"Mrs. Collins has been coming to Rosings to practice most diligently with Mrs. Jenkinson." Lady Catherine announced to the room. "She has not my natural taste, but I am able to guide her to the music which best suits her. She is a charm to hear." A compliment it may be, but Catherine would not be Catherine without ensuring that whatever compliments she gave were true condescensions. After greeting Anne with a wink and a curtsy, I turned to see what company may have already joined the Rosings party. A short gasp caught in my throat as I found none other than the dreadful Mr. Darcy bowing to me.

"Miss Eliz- Mrs. Collins. Forgive me. I am unused to the new name. I have not been in your acquaintance since you marriage. Again I must congratulate you."

"I thank you Mr. Darcy." I curtsied once more, avoiding his eye contact.

"Do you know my nephew, Mrs. Collins?"

"Yes Lady Catherine, though it had quite slipped my mind that you were related. We met in Hertfordshire, shortly before my engagement. He was visiting a friend who leased an estate bordering Longborn."

"Ah! And my other nephew?" She question. I turned to see a blondish man with a cheerful disposition, slightly more round features, but altogether, a charming picture.

"I have not had the pleasure."

"Colonel Fitzwilliam." He bowed lowly with a smile. "Had we known such pretty company awaited us here, Mrs. Collins, we would have hastened our journey, would we not have Darcy?" Something in Darcy's expression clearly stated that he most certainly would not have but I ignored it. Mr. Darcy, as unpleasant as I had found him, was utterly and completely harmless. Proud, arrogant, and infuriating yes, but he was far too proud, far too obsessed with his own honor, to raise his hand to one beneath him in either stature or presence. I glanced to Anne and remembered the comments her mother made, about ensuring a different marriage for her, and realized what she must mean. She intended Darcy for Anne.

"Dinner is served, Madam." A servant spoke up. Catherine demanded that the Colonel accompany her, which forced Darcy to ask Anne as William took my arm. There were two more members of our party, a Mr. and Mrs. Greene, landed, but not nearly as high in ranking as Darcy, or even the Colonel who was the second son of an Earl. I had met them on occasion, but they rather thought that a Parson and his wife were too lowly for regular company, and as such, I was not invited into Mrs. Greene's circle. She was, pleasant enough when we were both invited to Rosings, however, and I felt no malice from her.

When had that become the bar against which I measure opponents? Whether or not they would harm me? Whether or not they were malicious or just unpleasant? It was a sad state indeed.

Dinner was, as always, an interesting affair. My husband made a fool of himself, and Catherine goaded him into it. Colonel Fitzwilliam charmed everyone he spoke with, and made our party a tad more merry than it usually was wont to appear. Mr. Darcy, who was seated next to me, made occasional conversation, but more often than not, he remained silent, fixated on his food.

"How is your family?" He asked quite suddenly in the middle of the third course.

"They are quite well."

"If I recall correctly, your father was ill when we left Hertfordshire." I swallowed slowly before answering.

"Yes. Quite ill. He has since recovered, and while he is not as exuberant as he once was, it is to be expected from a man of his age. His health is quite recovered." I wasn't bitter about it, I'd much rather my father be well than dead, but I couldn't help wishing that I'd known he would be well when I finally relented and agreed to marry my cousin.

"And your sisters?"

"Well. Jane has been in London nearly a year now." I spoke pointedly and I could see him shift anxiously in his seat. "The other three are quite well. Perhaps a little energetic, but they are just girls." I reminded him. He simply nodded his head. I vaguely recalled the verbal sparring we had once engaged in, and I smiled at the memory. He had infuriated me. How odd to look back on that abject hatred I'd had for the man who had mortified my pride. The hatred was misplaced. A simple sense of dislike would have perfectly sufficed.

"I understand, Mrs. Collins," Colonel Fitzwilliam cut in from where he sat beside my husband at the other side of the table. "That you are newly married. How are you finding married life."

"Fitzwilliam that is hardly an appropriate question." Lady Catherine's sharp rejection of the content spared me from lying through my teeth and I was grateful for it.

"Rosings then," The Colonel amended with a wry smile at his aunt's proclaimation. "How do you find Rosings?"

"Without parallel." I told him in all honesty. "I grew up on a rather smaller estate, and while Longborn will always be first in my heart, I find that each new walking path, every new spring bloom, fills me with joy. Rosings is splendid, and your aunt condescends often enough that I am rather indulged in it's splendor."

"Truly?" He asked with a joking smile. I could see that it was meant in a harmless enough way, but it spoke to his dismissal of his aunt's goodness. I could see where he saw that. Catherine was a domineering woman, who made her wishes well known. She was particular. She was exacting. And did I not know her darker past, I would have found her particularly vexing. How odd that in different circumstances the same woman was nearly intolerable, but now, I counted her among my best friend.

"Your aunt is a kind, and good patroness, and my husband and I are blessed to be in her circle." This, of course, prompted William to take up the conversation, praising Lady Catherine highly and allowing me to fall silent for some time, focusing instead on the excellent boiled potatoes before me.

"You are happy, then?" A quiet voice cut into my silence, and I looked to see Mr. Darcy's eyes fixed on me, despite the flowering epithets William was effusively forcing on the rest of our present company. I looked him dead in the eye and smiled.

"Immeasurable." It was not a lie. I wasn't sure what scale could measure the tiny grains of happiness I _did_ find in Catherine, and Anne, and my parishioners. Helping others brought me joy, and I did find great happiness in my friendship with Anne and Catherine, I did, truly... but I was a selfish enough creature that the small joys I did find, were unable to make me happy when thrust against the despair that was my husband.


	4. Chapter 4

**Trigger warnings: Rape, physical abuse, descriptions of bodily injuries.**

* * *

 **Elizabeth Collins**

My husband was overjoyed with the success of dinner at Rosings. In his mind, we had charmed Lady Catherine's nephews, I had coaxed Anne out of her shell enough to play cards, and speak with me, and he had been given ample time to sing his Patroness's praises. Safe from his hands, I might be, but in his joy, there was a different part of his anatomy he preferred to acquaint me with. I had expected it, and as such, chose to indulge a bit more of my tea of choice. I had long ago, convinced my husband that black tea did not sit well in my stomach and that I only drank a particular kind of herbal tea. As such, he did not even blink when a second, smaller pot of tea was brought out and set by my side. Colonel Fitzwilliam, however, did question my drink of choice.

"I find that black tea is too strong for my constitution." I told the lie with ease by now. "Her Ladyship is kind enough to offer me an alternative." I drank this herbal mixture consistently throughout the day, and had imbibed more than enough to achieve the desired affects, but I found that my anxiety in going through what I was about to endure this evening, was lessened with a few extra dosses of my self-medication and the assurance that I wasn't about to conceive.

Colonel Fitzwilliam raised the pot to his nose and winced at the scent. It was rather potent. I was used to it enough it didn't bother me, but at first, the smell and taste had made me gag rather intensely.

"If black tea is too strong, I can only imagine that drinking this is the equivalent to imbibing oil." I smiled kindly at him.

"It is a bit of an acquired taste, I suppose."

"And you drank enough to acquire the taste, why?" He teased kindly.

"Fitzwilliam you are being abominably rude. I demand that you leave Mrs. Collins to her drink of choice, and slip your flask over your own as you like to, and we'll all have the common sense and good breeding to pretend we didn't notice."

"Aunt Catherine!" The Colonel exclaimed happily. "I've never heard such an outburst from you and I must admit, I'm inexplicably proud."

"I demand we change the conversation."

"Mrs. Collins. You've been practicing at the pianoforte most diligently these past few weeks. Would you consent to performing for us?"

"If it is your Ladyship's wish, I shall do so."

"It is. You have improved immeasurable. I think that had Anne's constitution allowed her to play, the pair of you would be rivals for your talents. You know what I wish to hear." I nodded, and swallowing back the rest of my tea, I rose and made my way towards the pianoforte.

"A high compliment from my Aunt." The Colonel admitted. "Would you permit me to turn the pages for you, Mrs. Collins?"

"Thank you for the offer sir, but the song I intend to play is one of Lady Catherine's favorites. I play it quite often and as such I have no need for the music."

My mind rushed over and over the song I'd played, my fingers running over the keys in my mind as they pressed into the mattress beneath me. It was easier to pretend this was all a dream, and that I was simply playing the piano for Anne and Catherine, far, far easier than to actually think about the way he was panting, nearly in my face, drops of his sweat dripping on my skin, the way his skinny knees pressed into my legs painfully, holding me down. It was easier to pretend I was back in the parlor, listening to Mr. Darcy compliment his sister's performance on the pianoforte, to think on how Colonel Fitzwilliam also clearly doted on the girl in question, to listen to Catherine attempt to convince Darcy to fall in love with Anne, than to hear his disgusting noises, not quite grunts, not quite squeals but something in between. It was easier to fixate on dissecting what exactly Mr. Darcy had meant when he'd looked into her eyes, confused and almost... hurt, when he'd said lowly, so that no one else could hear, "You drink black tea all the time," rather than feel him painfully tear her apart. I had spoken with other married ladies, happily married ladies who had married for love. They spoke of their wifely duties as a good thing. They had teased her about it, assuming she too was happily married. She knew how her body was meant to react. She knew it wasn't how her body reacted to him. She was dry below, and it felt as though she were being ripped in two. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't... no. Stop Lizzy. I cannot... if I cry and he sees... oh he was so angry the last time... I can't cry, I cannot or he'll...

It was too late. His movement stilled and instead of the relief I should feel, I knew why and I knew what was coming.

"This displeases you." He panted gruffly.

"No sir."

"You are crying."

"I am upset, I suppose, that I have yet to bear you a child. I am desperate to do my duty to you sir. That is all. I beg of you, continue." But he did not. After a few moments of stillness he pulled out of me, without getting off of me completely.

"You are right. You should be bearing my child by now. What have you done to displease the Lord so?" Damn. It had been the wrong thing to say.

"Nothing sir, the other ladies... they say these things take time."

"It has been months. Your mother birthed Jane a mere 10 months after marrying your father. You come from fertile stock, why have you not conceived yet?"

"I- I don't know, sir. I am sure I will soon. My courses are due soon, perhaps I will miss them. Perhaps I already carry-"

"No. No you would know. Women always know these things. What have you done, Elizabeth? What have you done?" His voice was rising and I knew the happy disposition he had gained after our dinner was long gone. I had pointed out another of my flaws, a flaw that he felt acutely, for I knew he wished desperately to provide the heir to Longborn, to show that he could do what my father could not. I had made another mistake. And I would pay for it.

* * *

 **Fitzwilliam Darcy**

Nothing about my stay at Rosings thus far was going to plan. Not that the plan I'd had was any good to being with, but I liked to be prepared. Nothing, nothing at all could have prepared me for this.

Was my Aunt... did she _like_ Elizabeth? Not that people couldn't like her... that is to say... outspoken, and self-assured as she was, unlikely to bend to someone because of their peerage, Elizabeth wasn't the sort of person my aunt liked. At all. I had thought she would keep the Collins far away from her, vexing as I knew Elizabeth could be. But... She had evidently allowed Elizabeth to practice her piano here at Rosings, _every day_. And Anne... Elizabeth and Anne clearly interacted a lot. Anne was far more outgoing and- well okay, not outgoing, but far more comfortable in company, and she didn't look quite as sickly. Almost as though she was getting more movement, regularly, and not just stuck in a sitting room with her overbearing mother. More than once, When a flash of discomfort came across Elizabeth's face at a question, or a situation, a flash so quick it would be hard to spot if you weren't used to staring at her all the time as I was - as if I wasn't ridiculous enough - Aunt Catherine would _change the subject_. My Aunt took particular joy in making others uncomfortable. It was almost as if she sensed your discomfort, and then held you there for as long as she reasonably could. She seemed... protective? No, but she was kind to Elizabeth. She cared for Elizabeth. That entire time, my hard pressed ideas that my family would never accept her, and here my aunt was, doing just that.

Collins was as annoying as expected. It was rather... ridiculous. I'd almost gagged, right there at the dinner table when Richard alluded to they're _married life._ To be fair, it was a perfectly appropriate question, but I knew Richard, and I knew he meant more than the simple act of running her own home, and having a husband to care for, and the thought of him with _her..._ it made me sick to think of it. Of course that led to how she deserved to be treated, which was a train of thought which led to my needing to adjust my trousers and think bland thoughts, so I ought to think of something else.

Elizabeth. She was... different. The spark was still there, I could see it in her eyes, and when she spoke with Anne, and Aunt Catherine, but when with her husband, she carefully schooled her language, the situation, manipulating had such a negative undertone, I was loathe to apply it to her, but she clearly had a way of handling him, ensuring that he was kept happy. I thought back to her promise that she was marrying for love, and for a moment, I wondered if it were true, if she kept him happy, because she loved him. That hurt to much. I couldn't dwell on it.

"Darcy!" My Aunt's commanding voice cut into my reverie and I jumped in my seat. "Of what are you thinking? You are clearly deep in thought."

"I must ride out to the tenants tomorrow, to ensure their needs are being met. It is such a large estate and as you and Anne are unable to do so, Richard and I ought-"

"You needed do so."

"Aunt, it is important. I understand why you are unable to-"

"You misunderstand me. You needed do so, as Mrs. Collins sees to that now. She walks to each tenant and manages to see them each once a week at the least. When they are in need of something, she alerts me to it, and I ensure that they receive their due. I know she often does more for them as well."

"Walks?" Richard asked immediately. "You have a great number of tenants, Aunt. Some are miles and miles away from the parsonage. How does she-"

"Miss Eli- Mrs. Collins is a very avid walker." I cut in.

"We are just finishing winter. Surely she did not-"

"She knows that for these visits my chaise is available for her." Aunt Catherine said, shocking us all. "But I believe she only used it the once."

"Twice." Anne cut in, quietly, another shocking moment. "Remember Aunt? Last month?" Aunt's mouth formed a thin line, likely displeased at being corrected, or at being wrong in the first place.

"You are right, Anne." She replied evenly. "Twice." She turned to me. "If you wish to ensure their needs are being met, Darcy, you may ask her if you and Richard could accompany her. As you would only be traveling short distances, you may not need a chaperone, but I am certain one of the maids could accompany you if she wished. Or if you chose to take the coach, Anne might like to attend."

"If this is your plan let me know." Anne spoke again, uttering more words than I'd heard from her in a long time. "I've greatly enjoyed my visits with Mrs. Collins, I would be happy to repeat the trip once more now that the weather has improved." Richard nodded happily, but I just stared. Anne was much changed, and if I didn't know Elizabeth as I did, I would suspect it was improved health, but I did know Elizabeth. I knew the effect she'd had on me, and I knew what she could do, and I suspected it was much more likely the introduction to her that had affected Anne so. We chatted aimlessly for another half an hour, before Anne and Mrs. Jenkinson, a woman who spoke so seldom I often forgot her presence in the room, excused themselves to retrieve Anne's medicine. Catherine was instructing Richard on the finer points of finding an heiress that wasn't _too_ far above his station when anything with any amount of interest occurred.

Anne burst into the room, a panting maid on her heals. Anne did not burst anywhere. She slowly, quietly tiptoed around, but sure enough the door had gone flying open, and nearly knocked over an ugly vase I knew Aunt Catherine was rather fond of. Her eyes were wide, and her hands were... fidgeting? There was a flush to her cheeks I had never seen before, one which actually added to her complexion rather than disfigure it, and I was surprised to notice that when she wasn't cowering, Anne wasn't that unpretty. Not that I'd ever want to marry her, but still, if she ever got herself to London, she would find a dozen or more men knocking at her door, and not just because of her dowry.

"Mother!" She called out loudly.

"Anne! What on Earth is the matter? Has the doctor finished your medicine?" She raced to her daughter's side and for a moment, I was able to see the panicked mother, not the overbearing, controlling woman I was so used to.

"Yes. Yes he has. But I feel quite unwell."

"You always feel better after your medicine, is he still here? Should he-"

"Yes. I've asked that he stay as I am quite unwell. But I think I require a lady's presence mother." Catherine's eyes darted to the maid, a girl I hadn't seen before, and she went starkly pale.

"Yes, we might be able to-"

"As soon as possible ma'am." The maid said, her eyes wide and full of what I might label... terror? How ill was Anne?! What was going on?

"Dear God in heaven. I thought-"

"Yes. She did too." The maid replied.

"Foolish man."

"He's a doctor, Aunt, I'm sure he knows a touch more of Anne's illness than you. You may not like it, but I wouldn't call him _foolish."_ Aunt looked startled, as if she'd forgotten we were even still here.

"Might I assume your mother is not what you require, but a lady closer to your own age, Anne?" Catherine quickly added. Anne hurried to nod.

"Send a footman for Mrs. Collins. Tell her husband we are desperate for her company as she is the only one who can soothe Anne when she's in a state like this." The maid hurried off to do her bidding as Richard scoffed at the proclamation.

"She burst into the room, I'd hardly call it a state."

"Richard, do be quiet, will you? The big girls are handling a situation that we certainly don't need your boorish ways interfering in." Catherine snapped. "Both of you, might do well to excuse yourselves to bed, Anne is clearly very unwell and needs her space."

"She doesn't look that unwell at all-"

"Richard!" Catherine screamed out. "I said be quiet! Now get out!" We both scrambled to get out of the room, and hastened down the hall to our chambers.

"What in the hell was that all about?"

"Things have been much changed this year." Was my only reply.

"Indeed! In fact I would have said Anne was improving in her heath, even that demonstration earlier, bursting into the room, eyes wide and determined, she looked... incredibly healthy, don't you think?" I smirked. That pause was telling. Richard had thought she looked pretty. That was what he really meant.

"Yes. Incredibly _healthy."_

"Oh shut it Darcy, you know what I mean."

"I do exactly. Do you think Catherine would consider her an heiress out of your reach?"

"She intends Anne for you, Darcy, we all know that. And son of an Earl, I may be, but you're her first choice."

"Ridiculous."

"I know. I'd be a far more husband for Anne than you." I pushed his shoulder good naturedly. "Damn." He swore suddenly.

"What is it?"

"I left my book in the drawing room. Run back and fetch it for me?"

"Am I your vassel, now?"

"Come on, Darce! You know she's not going to get angry at you if you just nip in, me, on the other hand, she's likely to bite my head off. I wouldn't fetch half as beautiful a wife with no head on my shoulders!"

"Why do you need _that_ book? Run to the library, fetch another."

"It isn't a novel, Darcy boy. Its about new army tactics, defensive stratagems and the like. You wouldn't want me to _die_ because I hadn't had time to read the book teaching me to avoid the enemy, would you?" I sighed.

"Fine. But you owe me." I wasn't going back for him. Something didn't click. Something didn't make sense. I needed more information to figure out what was going on with Anne. I made it to the base of the stairs when a commotion drew my attention to the front entrance. Anne was rushing to the door, throwing it open for the footman, and presumably, Elizabeth. She was wrapped in a dark cloak, but I noticed that she was walking all together too close to the footman, it was hardly proper. But then Anne rushed to her other side, and wrapped her arm around her waist, as if to support her weight. Which was when I noticed she was walking with a limp.

"It's going to be all right Elizabeth. The doctor was here anyway, he's going to fix you up." Anne said quickly.

"How did you know so quickly?" A stilted, quiet voice asked in return.

"I think your maid nearly gave herself a stitch, running over here as fast as she could. I was seeing the doctor out when she arrived, and I instantly went to mother. She was yet in the drawing room with the gentlemen, and- oh! No need to worry! I asked if I might have your presence as I wasn't well. She sent them off. They won't see."

"Thank God."

"Lizzy!" Lizzy?! Had Aunt Catherine just referred to her as... "Oh my dear girl! I'm so sorry, I thought-"

"I did too. It's my fault. I said the wrong thing. I should have been more careful." Catherine reached inside the hooded cloak and held Elizabeth's face in her hands, her eyes sharp and her expression fueled with fury. There was the Aunt Catherine I was used to.

"This is _never_ your fault, Elizabeth Bennet." I inhaled sharply, hearing her name spoken aloud like that. When Catherine let go of her face, the hood fell back and I had to bite my fist to keep from crying out. That wasn't... that couldn't be...

Her nose was broken. She had one freshly blackened eye, and the other... it was sallow, and yellowing, as if it had been bruised weeks past. I couldn't possibly have missed it at dinner! How on Earth... her lip was split open in two spots, but the blood was dried. I could see more bruising, older than her black eye, peaking out from her neckline. She was limping harshly, I could see that now as Catherine led her forward, and glancing back, I could see a trail of blood following her.

"I didn't mean it like that. Only that I wasn't thinking. He was happy, fine. But he saw my tears and it angered him. I tried to blame them on myself, only I went to far. Then he blamed me too. It is a bit my fault. If I had been thinking, I could have avoided all of this."

"Perhaps, but that doesn't make any of it your fault." Catherine argued back. A wry smile appeared on Elizabeth's lips as she replied.

"Catherine, I do believe that is the exact definition of fault." My aunt rolled her eyes, but I could tell she was slightly amused. I followed them, I couldn't help it. I had to know... I had to understand.

"He is a monster." Anne whimpered, as they entered her private parlor. Before the door closed behind them, I saw them remove Elizabeth's cloak and reveal a dress, haphazardly thrown over a bloodied, sweat stained nightgown, torn down the middle.

* * *

 **A/N: Loving the reviews! I know it's sad and angsty now, but when have you ever known our dear Elizabeth Bennet to not make the best out of a dull situation? She rises with every attempt to intimidate her! Joy and cheerfulness suit her far better than wallowing and sadness and despite her circumstances, she will not allow herself to be torn down! Also, redemption will soon be at hand my friends:) Please keep reading and reviewing! xoxo - E**


	5. Chapter 5

**Fitzwilliam Darcy**

She'd been attacked. That was the only explanation. She had been... assaulted. It was... unfathomable. I felt the urge to vomit and only just held it back. Before I could clear my head, step back into the shadows, the door swung open once more, my aunt barreling out of it. She stopped cold when she saw me. We stared for a moment or two.

"I wont insult your intelligence by attempting to determine what you've seen without actually mentioning any of it."

"Her husband should be called." I finally coughed out. I certainly didn't want him in my presence, but if that were my wife... I would want to be called immediately. "I can go myself if you cannot spare the footman."

"You'll do no such thing." She commanded coldly.

"She's been attacked. Like him or not, that's his wife. He deserves to know where she is, and in what state, and even if she was doing something she oughtn't have, he'll be happy to know she's being looked out for and-"

"I take it back. Now I desperately wish to insult your intelligence, and I think I shall begin by saying, that you are an absolute idiot if you think I can spare the mud off my shoes to fetch that man now."

"Aunt-"

"He knows exactly where his wife is and exactly what state she is in."

"Then why is he not-"

"He was told that Anne is unwell and required female assistance immediately. I summoned his wife. He had no choice in the matter but to give her into my care."

"I don't under... if he knows then..."

"You absolute fool." She hissed. The pieces were sliding together to form a grotesque picture.

"Collins..." I snarled. "He did-" I swallowed back another urge to be sick. "He did that to her?"

"Not all men were taught honor by their fathers, Fitzwilliam Darcy. Some of them were taught to be monsters."

"She said she loved him. She said... did she know?"

"She knew that her father was dying and that her sisters would be out on the streets months later if one of them did not control Longborn." Any surprise I might feel at her knowing such intimate details about a parson's wife did not occur to me until far later. "She wished them the chance to marry for love."

"Did she know that he-" I couldn't say it. I couldn't...

"Of course not. She loves her sisters but she's not a masochist." My anguish turned to anger in a minute.

"Did _you-"_ Her hand met my face with a sharp slap and for a moment there was a fire in her eyes that blazed brighter than I had ever seen it. For all her imperious commands, for all her stature and standing, her eyes were always cold, that of a domineering woman. This was nothing like that. She looked impassioned. It suited her.

"Don't you dare." She growled at me. "Of course not. I thought... I thought he was harmless. I never imagined-"

"When did this all begin? When did you find out?"

"Months ago."

"And she's still-" I began, infuriated once more.

"What are we to do? She married him. He all but owns her. There's nothing that can be done but wait for the bastard to reap his rewards in hell."

"Surely there's something that might be done."

"I remove her from the situation when it get's bad enough, like this. Otherwise, I've been teaching her to manipulate him as best as she can. She's almost good at it, but the wildness of her spirit gets in her way at times." Aunt Catherine gripped my arm tightly, too tightly, enough to leave marks on my wrist for certain. "None of this is any of your business." She hissed at me. "Lizzy doesn't want the world to know, for a number of reasons. She hides it well and she bares it so that she can hold her head up high. You will not take that from her, or so help me God I will make you regret it."

"I would hardly mock her for this."

"I never thought you would, but she's prideful, Fitzwilliam. You will not even let her know that you know. You will go on, as if you never saw any of this."

"Then why did you even tell me? Why didn't you make up some excuse about a runaway horse or something?"

"At first because I assumed you knew enough about the world to understand what you'd seen."

"And then?"

"When you proved to be an idiot, I deemed it necessary to provide you with the education you needed about the monsters you deal with regularly. Collins is by no means out of the ordinary. You must be aware, of what occurs around you. You must be aware if you have any hope of protecting anyone."

* * *

 **Elizabeth Collins**

Anne's doctor was making random tsking noises as he examined my injuries. It would have been almost amusing if... well, in a different set of circumstances. He just looked so... appalled. Flustered. His hands were shaking for goodness sake. He was a doctor! Just pretend I'd been run over by a cart and get to work! I very nearly blurted that very thing out but Catherine was brushing back into the room with a dress for me to borrow. One of Mrs. Jenkinson's cast offs. That sounded like I was ungrateful, or as if the dress was ugly. I didn't mean it to sound like that. Mrs. Jenkinson got a new wardrobe each year, one that would compliment Anne's nicely. Her lightly worn, last year dresses, the ones that hadn't been remade into gowns and dresses for this season, had been put aside for me, as we were of a similar size, and more often then not my husband's attentions left me with torn, or sullied dresses. Catherine didn't want me to have to suffer the humiliation of wearing a bloodstained, or ruined dress, and more than that, didn't think I should be forced to put on a garment I'd been tortured in. Luckily, for all Collins complimented the ladies on their style and manner of dress, he hadn't yet noticed that my wardrobe changed continually or that I was receiving a plethora of new garments to make up for those he had wrecked.

"You will stay through Sunday." Catherine demanded regally, not just to me, but to all present. "Anne does not have any engagements this week and no one will think it odd that she interacts with her cousins, regardless of her health, as they are family. Collins will not be invited, but I will ensure that he knows how grateful I am for your care of my daughter." She looked to me now. "Was he worried?" That was the question. When I was so clearly... unwell myself, he sometimes fretted over what my appearance would be to the great Lady Catherine, and her daughter. It had all happened so fast. One moment his rings were breaking the skin on my face, and the next, someone was pounding on the door, maids rushing in, grabbing me and yelling that the Lady Anne required me immediately. One footman stayed behind to inform my husband of the particulars of the lie, but I hadn't had time to ascertain whether or not he was upset at my appearing at Rosings in this state.

"I'm not sure, Catherine." She nodded.

"Then I shall be sure to comment that I particularly appreciate your caring for my daughter despite a fall you had on your way over. I'll be sure to tell him that. This will all blow over by Sunday." I nodded and grinned impertinently.

"Indeed. Perhaps without my vexing presence all week, he'll return to his mild mannered self."

"You tease to much, Lizzy."

"I tease the exact correct amount."

"If you insist." I saw an inkling of a smile on her face before she spun around to quit the room entirely.

"Cate." I called out instinctively. She slowly turned around. "Thank you." She nodded curtly, as if to remove herself from any praise. I knew she felt an odd amount of guilt, sending Collins to my family to chose a bride. But it wasn't her fault, and I endeavored to remove any such sentiment from her mind. In fact, she did not even acknowledged my gratitude beyond the nod, and when she spoke, she had completely changed the topic.

"My sister used to call me Cate."

"Forgive me, Catherine, I overstepped. It was nothing more than a whim." She smiled softly.

"No, that's not what I meant. I... you're as welcome to call me Cate as you are Catherine." And with that she left the room.

"My father wasn't even allowed to call her that." Anne interjected in amusement. Of course, what Anne did not entirely understand was that her father was not... he was far more alike to Mr. Collins than an actual husband, a friend, or anyone who might be allowed to use a familiar nickname. Collins could call me wife, Mrs. Collins, Elizabeth, whatever he liked, but the moment he used my sister's name for me, would be a moment he regretted. That much power I did still hold. Catherine and I... we understood each other. We were different, each a revolutionary in our own ways, but when it came down to it, she a daughter of an Earl, and I the daughter of a barely gentleman who made only 2,000 per year and didn't have the good sense to invest it in his property or in his daughter's dowries... we were somehow made of the same stuff, and it was a metal that had been properly fortified for battle.

* * *

 **Fitzwilliam Darcy**

Neither Anne, nor... her visitor emerged from her suite for two days. Two days. I spent two days, on edge, hopelessly stuck between being desperate to see her, to ensure she was all right, and yet horribly terrified that the very sight of her would send me into a rage I couldn't control. As much as I hated the man, I didn't want his murder on my hands, and I was very certain that with every remembrance of her bruised face, blood trailing behind her, I was growing closer and closer to that conclusion.

"Darcy." My aunt's commandeering voice cut in and I nearly broke the pen I was mending as I jumped at the sound.

"Yes Aunt?"

"I require you elsewhere."

"Er... where?"

"You misunderstand me. I require you to remove yourself from this room, and be, elsewhere. Anywhere else will do. She misses the sun and would has agreed not to traipse off into the wilderness on her own if she is allowed to sit in front of my parlor windows and see the sun." I paused before I replied. Was my aunt being... indulgent? This was most irregular.

"Aunt Catherine, I-"

"Just go, Darcy."

"Perhaps I might be of some assistance. Her leg..."

"She's fine."

"She isn't fine."

"This is none of your affair. I never should have told you a thing."

"But you did. And I am invested."

"You will wound her pride if you seem it. She has managed to hold on to her pride thus long, you might endeavor to allow her that small gift."

"I only wish-"

"You only wish to insert yourself where you aren't wanted. You are an honorable man, and I have no doubt this wish comes from your deep desires to help all and sundry, but the best way for you to help, is to vacate the premises. Take a horseback ride. Go read your book in the library. I don't care. Just remove yourself from this parlor." I slammed the cover shut on the tome I'd been reading for the second time and sighing, I rose, bowing quickly to my aunt before doing as she commanded. In my spite, I refused to move far, and ended up a room which shared a wall with the parlor I had been in. It was a mistake. Not ten minutes later my mind was consumed with a sound that made my heart beat faster and faster until it felt like I may actually die sitting here in this hideous orange chair.

I could hear her laughter.


	6. Chapter 6

**Trigger warnings: Rape (Non-violent); emotional and manipulative abuse;**

Notes for those who found Mr. Darcy's 'idiocy' to be offputting: **So sorry that you weren't loving the way he was written there, however that's actually based on a true event. The person in question, and by extension Mr. Darcy, are not idiots. They don't live under a rock where they don't know this is happening, but they also don't live in a world where it is happening to those around them very often. Clara84 really nailed it in her review of the last chapter - where Darcy is coming from. I've copied part of her review below to help explain: cheers x**

I can't fault Darcy for not having had a clue. First of all, he's trying to wrap his mid around what he's seen of both Anne and Elizabeth - no easy task, especially given his frame of reference. In Chapter 1, there was a hint of his attachment to Elizabeth; harming her would be incomprehensible to him. In wanting to help notify Collins of Elizabeth's condition, he's operating under the yet-to-be shattered delusion that Elizabeth is cherished. Until now, he hasn't known that the love that prompted Elizabeth to accept the ridiculous Mr. Collins was for her sisters, not the man. Even if he knew that some men - especially the dissolute ones - behaved brutally, a clergyman would not be someone he would naturally suspect of beating his wife. That's not all that different from present day reality. He's just getting a fast education that even many 21st Century men lack.

 **Thanks Clara84 - and thanks to all the reviewers! I love understanding what you are all seeing in this so I can better express myself and this story through my writing! Hugs all around!**

 **And now... back to ODC!**

* * *

 **Elizabeth Collins**

I had sufficiently healed upon my return to the cottage later the next week and the extended time with dear Anne and Cate had given me a sense of happiness in my situation. I was determined that it would not be taken from me. My husband, it seemed, had calmed himself to a great degree in our separation as well and was jovial and professed his pleasure at my return. The kiss he bestowed upon me in front of the Rosings footman who knew damn well what Mr. Collins was truly about was not _terribly_ unpleasant, but I could see the poor servant's grimace as he watched the display and I felt a modicum of shame at my own wounded pride, knowing that above all I was pitied. I was equally determined that my story should not be a tragedy, that those around me might pity.

"Anne is quite improved." I told him. "Lady Catherine sends along her gratitude that you have spared me for so long a time, and added that she would be delighted to have you for dinner later this week to say her thanks in person." This preened his feathers nicely and after we had worked out the particulars of his schedule, I sent the footman back to Rosings with a proposed date of two nights hence. I knew Catherine had already approved any night this week so I did not wait with baited breath for his return.

"I have missed you, my darling wife." I smiled at him and thanked him for his compliment. "I may have... lost my temper somewhat, when we last were together."

"Mr. Collins, we have both been separated for so long, I hardly remember what the fight was even about. I shall endeavor not to upset you in the future, but for now, our return to one another is enough to lift my spirits, do you not agree? For her Ladyship said as much as I waited for the carriage to be ready for our journey here, that she could tell I was anxious to return to you and it spoke well of a young couple, so eager to be together and felicitous in one another's presence."

"Nothing could be closer from the truth, my dear. I am joyful at your return. I aught apologize for how I expressed my anger." He insisted, surprising me. He, on occasion, apologized for his behavior, but as soon as I gave him my professed forgiveness or expressed my agreement of his treatment of me, as dishonest as they might have been, he agreed with my assessment and moved on. His insistence upon apologizing a second time was... unprecedented. "Will you," he paused, finding his words, "accept my apology?"

"Of course, thought it is hardly warranted." I said, smiling kindly at the toad of a man before me. Kindness was often a balm on him, as he understood such as flattery.

"I know we fought of our not having been blessed with an heir, but it has occurred to me that is as much my fault as yours. I have not been doing my duty as a husband to provide you with ample opportunity to become... that is to..." My husband was a man of many words, and it was an equal rarity to his apologizing with such vigor that he now struggled to find the words he wished to say. "If I had been doing my duty more particularly, more frequently that is, it would certainly be more likely for you to find yourself expecting." My heart sank. So this was why he now flattered me and begged my forgiveness. Several weeks of my convalescence reminded him of what it was to be a bachelor and to not have a quim at his beck and call.

"You wish to be more avid in our quest to have our first child?" I asked, ensuring I had the right of it before I responded.

"Yes! Precisely! I have been reading sermons by several other clergymen and while an abomination outside of the confines of marriage and in many particular positions, copulation in pursuit of God's greatest gift, that of a child, cannot beget a sin. Any attempt on our part to produce such a gift can only be seen as a the pursuant of our purpose as He intended."

"Indeed." I replied.

"As such, I should like to suggest that we are fastidious in this pursuit."

"You can be assured of my compliance with your wishes, sir."

"Of course this response shows nothing if not your value as a wife and I am proud to have chosen such a fine wife for this reason. If I might... that is to say, you must wish to prepare yourself for your day. I understand that the journey from Rosings is a short one, but the dust of the road sticks to one regardless of distance. I have had the maid begin to heat water for a bath." I paused before replying.

"I thank you, sir. That is a kindness I did not expect." He shifted nervously.

"I should like to help you prepare yourself for your toilette." He announced finally. Ah. That.

"In the pursuit of a child." I finished the sentence for him, understanding his intent better than I had before. It would appear the availability of my womanhood thus far had been insufficient and I might now be expected to provide it more often than just under the cover of night.

"Yes." Was all he said in reply. There was naught to do but comply if I wished him to continue in this course of good-natured conversation rather than leather straps and things being thrown in my direction. Instead of forcing myself to say the words which would welcome him into my bed, or wherever else he now seemed desirous of taking me, I simply took his arm and allowed him to lead me to my room. When we got there, I could hear my dear friend pouring water into the basin next door. I focused on the sound as Collins closed the door behind us with an ominous click and began to help me remove my garments. He would have to ignore the bruises that remained for there was naught I could do to cover them now and if he hoped for a coupling he could not afford to grow offended by his own handiwork.

Luckily for only himself, it appeared he was able to ignore the remaining injuries that littered my body. I had intended to remain in my shift, keeping a barrier between myself and my husband's skin, but with the excuse that I was soon to bathe, he left me no choice but to remove that as well. When we were both naked he eyed my body hungrily, his lip twitching as his hands fiddled with themselves. I avoided looking at him as much as one could avoid a pudgy naked man standing no more than two feet before them. His cock was still limpish - clearly somewhat inspired, but not as stiff and ready as it usually was when he insisted upon entering me. He reached out and ran his fingers across the skin on the side of my stomach, making his way upward until his hand fumbled with my breast. With a sudden change in tactic, his hand left my torso and took my own hand in it, tugging me forward a bit and wrapping his own hand around mine. Guiding it to do his bidding, he wrapped my hand around the length between his legs and demonstrated a pumping motion. It was not unlike how the steward at Longborne prepared the horses to mate when he so desired. Gesturing that I should continue, he let go of my hand and allowed me to pump him on his own as he closed his eyes and stood, uselessly before me, looking even stupider than that stallion the steward used to pretend was worth more than a shotgun shell. Why woman would ever submit to this behavior outside the confines of marriage where it was expected and enforced was beyond me. If this was what relations between men and women were like, it was a wonder there were any fallen women in the first place.

Soon enough, my ministrations provided that his manhood grow and stiffen, to where I was used to seeing it. He pushed my hand away and leered at me.

"Lie down on the bed." He said, his voice a higher pitch than it had been before. I complied and opened my legs as I knew he would require them to be. He settled himself between my thighs, his arms resting on either side of my shoulders, and he impaled me, ignoring my cry of pain. The ladies I knew always said that after the first few times it didn't hurt anymore, but it always did and Catherine, in a moment of obscene honesty, told me that it had been that way for her, and that when a woman was not happily anticipating her lover's entrance, it would always be painful. I had choked on my tea when she had brought the subject up, but she was determined to pass _all_ of her painfully gained wisdom of this type of situation on to me. To protect me. She was a good woman. One prone to uncomfortable conversations, but a good woman none the less.

Ugh. Collins' arms were not doing a very good job of holding him aloft and he lay upon me as he rutted, his face nestled between my bosoms, a spot of drool dripping out of his lips and upon my skin. I shivered in disgust, hoping it could be masked in feminine enjoyment of the marriage bed. His thrust continued, sloppily, and erratically, until he was clearly reaching his peak. His eyes darted around as he moved towards that moment in which he would find release and letting out a noise as indescribable as he was, he clenched his eyes shut, and collapsed upon me, his seed spurting inside me thickly. I sighed with relief when he began to pull out and I made to stand, to go to my bath and clean myself. He put his clammy hands upon my shoulder and pushed me back, not meanly, and yet still, I tensed.

"A reading... that is to say, there is some learning that suggests that a woman remain supine after intercourse for maximum opportunity to..."

"Beget a child?" He nodded and I acquiesced. "Is there any information that suggests the length of time this may occur." His eyes grew wide and his hopeful smile fell.

"I- I am af-afraid that the reading did not indicate... that is... there was no mention of-"

"I am certain that a learned man such as yourself with the additional benefit of God's own blessing may be able to make an educated guess, Mr. Collins. Perhaps you may suggest a time frame?"

"Indeed. I am certain half an hour would be more than sufficient."

"Half an hour it is then!" He seemed to be content to sit beside me on the bed as I endured this restless stillness, feeling his slickness slither out of my body and between the crevice of my bottom. It grew cold and sticky and I twitched in anticipation of the glories of a bath.

I began to count the seconds.

God, this was boring. If you can't be bothered in your infinite wisdom to separate my life from that of this horrid man, please, please, allow this prison of stillness be over, and allow me into the bath to clean the remnants of his sweat, his drool, his express away from my skin.

"The time has passed." His voice uttered standing and holding out his hand for me. "Do you still wish to bathe, wife?" I forced a smile as he yanked me to my feet.

"As you say, the dust of the road has stuck to my skin. If I am to be exposed to you more frequently, I should like to present myself as cleanly as possible." He smiled.

"Very good, Mrs. Collins. A bath now, and then we shall go about our days. After dinner perhaps you would allow me to return to your chambers? Or would you prefer that we conjugate in my own?"

"I have no preference either way." As either way would be equally as repellent. He practically beamed. After deeming it a divine decision to consummate his own chambers, I was released to take my bath and ready myself for a day of directing the maids in their cleaning, and picking out the menu for the following months. Oh. And I had the particular opportunity to re-decorate my old bonnet for his upcoming Sunday service.

How lovely.

I lowered myself into the tub and scowled. Of course he had gone and taken so long, and made me wait enough time that this wonderful bath I had been yearning for since the moment his hands touched my skin was lukewarm at best. I was almost more indignant at that then his intent to impregnate me. Almost. Not quite.

* * *

 **Fitzwilliam Darcy**

I didn't know which was worse, having her here, yet not being able to speak with her, not being able to acknowledge her pain or her plight, not being able to offer help, or having her gone, so that I didn't even know that she was safe for the present moment.

Because when she wasn't here, I couldn't watch over her from afar. I couldn't ensure that she was laughing with Anne or seeing the doctor, or performing on the pianoforte for my Aunt. Instead she was doing whatever it was a parson's wife did with her spare time. Including spending time with that monster. He could be harming her right now... dear God. This. This was worse. She may be in danger this moment and there wasn't aught I could do about it. I... I had to...

"Richard." I said, interrupting whatever parsimonious conversation he was engaging Anne's companion in and all but leaping out of my seat. "Let us go for a ride. We could stop in at the parsonage and pay a call to Mrs. Collins and her husband if he is home."

"This very moment?" He asked jovially. "Could we not wait ten minutes so that I may finish my conversation with this fine woman?" He said, teasing me.

"You, of course, must finish your conversation. I'll go get the horses ready so that we may depart as soon as Mrs. Jenkinson has tired of your frivolity and shooed you away." I didn't wait to hear his laughter nor his response. Aunt Catherine stopped me as I stepped into the hall.

"What are you about, nephew? That was a very sudden, very outspoken declaration for a man of so few words." I scoffed.

"I'm hardly a mute, Aunt Catherine."

"No, but I have never heard you so animatedly making plans with such spontaneity nor such veracity of... of a timeline." She finished weakly. "What do you intend to find at the parsonage?"

"I intend to ensure that all is well with your charming neighbors, Aunt Catherine."

"You will not..."

"I have given you my word more than once, though once should have been enough." I snapped back. She nodded and opened her lips to speak, but hesitated, unsure if she should comment.

"What is it?"

"Seeing him... after I realized the extent of it all, seeing him became very difficult for Anne and I, and I suppose for several of the staff who are aware. I know more than one footman has had to leave his presence because the temptation of harming him is too great. Many of my staff no longer attend our parish, but instead travel nearly 15 miles on a Sunday morning rain or shine to hear a parson they feel accurately represents the callings of God." I hadn't thought of that. I had only thought to see that she was safe, and no worse for wear. I hadn't thought that I would run into _him_ , that I would be forced to confront the devil as if he were nothing more than another man of my acquaintance.

"I... I understand."

"Harming him will only shame him. And he may take out such frustrations on his wife. Can you promise that you will contain yourself?"

"And if I cannot?"

"If you cannot promise such a thing I will send for my burliest footmen to restrain you. If you promise and break such a promise... well then Elizabeth's hurt will be on your shoulders, and you are far too honorable a man to live with that." She... she had a point. When did Aunt Catherine grow to be such a... such a paragon of wisdom?

"You have my word, Lady Catherine." I replied, bowing slightly.

"Then you may go." I took no more than half a dozen paces forward when another member of the DeBourg household accosted me.

"You are going to see Lizzy?" Anne asked, quietly, glancing around furtively. I nodded slowly, unsure of what she was about to divulge to me.

"Mama told me you had some awareness of the situation." I replied in the affirmative and she pressed a small bag into my hand. "Please ensure that she receives this, without her husband seeing."

"What is it?"

"It is... it is some tea." She said evasively.

"Anne, I am not a simpleton." Anne's eyes grew angry for a moment and annoyance flashed across her face. She took the bag back and opened it, showing... tea.

"I said it's tea, it is tea."

"Why must her husband be unaware that his wife drinks tea?" I asked, unsure of how this fit into the puzzle.

"You are only the delivery boy, Fitzwilliam Darcy, you need not know the particulars. She knows what it is and what it is for, and you need not." I grew alarmed.

"Anne DeBourg, is this poison?" I said suddenly. "Do you mean for her to kill Mr. Collins?" I hissed. Anne's eyes narrowed at me and I suddenly felt as if I were a schoolboy giving ridiculous answers.

"Of course not! We aren't murdering the parson! It's for Lizzy! Just..." She sighed as if speaking with me were a great trial. "It is for her health. It's a personal matter. My Lord, Fitzwilliam Darcy!" She hissed. "Just go! You need not say a word, only that I wished her to have a gift, or, or that I asked you to deliver something she forgot on her trip! Yes! That's it! Say that! And not like you know what it is, just as if your cousin asked you to deliver a parcel and you acquiesced without a word or thought." She shoved the bag back into my hand and with a swish of her skirts, she was gone. When had the women in this family become so... so...

So Elizabeth-like.

"I thought you were readying the horses!" Richard's voice called from behind me. "I thought I might get out of saddling if I waited a bit longer. Too bad, my shoulder has been bothering me. Come on then. Let's go see the elusive Mrs. Collins." We made our way down to the stables as Richard blathered on about the company.

"It's odd, Darce. The way you've been acting towards our fine eyed friend, well, if she weren't married, I'd say you were making a play for the young lady."

"She is married." Was my simple response. Richard chuckled at my words and shook his head.

"Indeed, friend. Indeed."


	7. Chapter 7

**I am so grateful for all the feedback! Keep it coming!**

 **There was a guest question about my tag of 'non-violent rape' and I wanted to clarify. In legal or social or really most any terms, rape is rape. It isn't sex, it is always an act of violence and torture towards someone, and I want to make it really clear that I in no way shape or form, lessen the amount of pain and trauma experienced by someone in that situation. However, as far as trigger warnings go specifically, I'm here to warn people who may be triggered by a telling of an event/situation psychologically. That is different person to person. I have a friend who will get full on panic attacks when reading/hearing about a couple where someone is told that they owe sex, and while someone isn't holding them down, or aggressively beating them into submission, but using manipulation, and coercion to force them into sex, because that's something she has experienced, where as scenes where someone is attacked in a dark ally and physically forced in a violent way, she can handle as well as anyone else. It is a LOT more common that those triggers work the other way (people are more often triggered by the violent side, rather than the mental coercion/manipulation that would force someone into that situation) but either way, I like to be specific because I know that at least one of my readers was going to need to skip that chapter and ask me for a summary so they could keep reading. In essence, non-violent rape is a rape (an act of violence in and of itself so I understand the confusion) is classified as a rape when someone is not also beaten, or physically overpowered in the process.**

 **A/N [2/15/18]: This chapter has been edited to fit better with ideas I had after it was posted. Enjoy!**

 **Now... back to Our Dear Couple:**

* * *

 **Fitzwilliam Darcy**

We had barely dismounted when the parson from hell ran out of his own home to greet us emphatically. It took all I had not to deck him right then and there. Luckily my clueless cousin was elegant and eloquent in his replies, and inquired after the lady of the house. The man all but beamed in response, and once again, I was struck with an urge to cause him immense pain. But I remembered my promise to Aunt Catherine, and I remembered her warning that harm upon him may be taken out upon his wife. I would not allow my actions to harm her, even via chain reaction. It would be insupportable. After a relatively short monologue on the newly bloomed foliage, of which the parson was most proud, we were escorted inside where his w- Mrs.- I sighed. Even in my thoughts I could not bring myself to think of her in any way, shape or form, connected to the bastard at hand. My aunt's new protege was pouring tea and smiled happily, welcoming us all into her home. Mr. Collins began a soliloquy on the changes to his home now that it possessed a mistress with such excellent taste. How he could compliment her so thoroughly, knowing that weeks before he had abused her to the point of permanent damage, had she not been helped immediately was even more vexing. I could feel the tension in my jaw grow as I clenched my teeth.

"My dear, surely our guests have little interest in which fabrics I chose for our new curtains." She said, her voice almost kind. Perhaps that was as infuriating as the sycophants disgusting speeches, her... being nice to him. I knew what my aunt had said. I knew it was all fake and that it was done in an effort to protect herself further, but it set me on edge and I found it hard to breathe.

"Not at all, Mrs. Collins." He replied with a bow. "I only mention it as I thought in ingenious of you to choose a fabric equally well suited for a guest's chambers, as the rooms current functions, or for a burgeoning nursery." I froze. Elizabeth. Pregnant with Mr. Collins' child. Elizabeth, giving birth, with _him_ watching over her. Elizabeth raising a child with that monster. Elizabeth being forced to submit to him in the first place.

"Am I to understand..." My cousin began cordially before redirecting his sentence. "That is, are we to wish you congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Collins?" Mr. Collins began an indirect response which told us nothing, as my heart beat faster and faster. Elizabeth put her hand on his arm, quieting him and smiled at Richard.

"We have no such news to impart. The Good Lord has, in his infinite wisdom, decided that it is our lot to spend this joyous newlywed time together as husband and wife, before blessing us with another joyous addition to our new family." She had said joyous twice in one sentence. Her face may be calm, but that alone was enough to let me know that the eloquent and witty Elizabeth Bennet was distressed by the choice of topic. I had to intervene before any more was said on the subject, for both her sake and my own.

"This tea is delicious." I said, taking another sip. "Is it the brew my aunt introduced you to?" She stiffened, and looked in my direction, though her gaze was actually pointing somewhere above my right shoulder.

"No, sir. My husband is not fond of that particular brew. An acquired taste, I'm afraid. Most of our guests find it equally appalling. What that says about my own taste I am not sure. I drink that particular tea when I am not entertaining."

"I see." I replied, when in reality I understood nothing of this conversation. "I only mention it as my cousin had received more of it than they were able to drink and was hoping you might accept some to add to your own stores." I reached into my pockets and withdrew the pouch. Her eyes flew to it and she reached for it immediately. How odd. It was just tea.

"How kind of her. You must relay to Lady Anne that I am truly grateful for her friendship and for her sharing her stores with me."

"I believe the gift was intended as a thank you for sitting with her so prodigiously during her illness." Richard laughed a bit at this.

"Illness. I am quite convinced that were she given more opportunity to go outdoors and play about as she did when she was younger, she wouldn't be ill so very much at all." The parson sputtered at this as Elizabeth accepted the tea pouch from me and slipped it into her pocket.

"I am quite certain that Lady Catherine has a vast understanding of Miss Anne's condition and what would and would not benefit her." He protested in our Aunt's solemn defense. "Anne was dreadfully ill this past week, so much so that she required two companions and her doctor to properly treat her! Does that sound as if she could be cavorting out of doors?"

"She was hardly that." Richard returned, jovially defending his point, unaware at the dangerous grounds he was standing on. "She was perhaps a touch pale and quiet but that is how she always is and who wouldn't be quiet when someone _else_ in the room is always filling any available silence with noise?" Elizabeth looked panicked an Mr. Collins, rather put out. I intervened before another word could be said.

"She puts on a brave face for you cousin, but I must assure you it is no laughing matter." I pressed down on his foot with my own and he barely concealed a yelp of pain with a cough as I continued speaking. "I know for a fact that other than the two times you saw her over the past week she was in horrid straights and that the doctor feared for her life. Mrs. Collins, as someone who cares a great deal for my cousin, we cannot thank you enough for your assistance in her healing process. No one is more prodigious in their care of her and my aunt and I are unilaterally grateful for your care of her. It is largely thanks to you that she heals so well and so quickly, as I recall such events before you were introduced into her life and I know such miraculous recoveries were not always the norm." Elizabeth was flushed a soft pink color, but she no longer looked panicked.

"I assure you, Mr. Darcy, Anne's friendship is worth more than I can every repay her for. I am at her service, always. And Lady Catherine's, of course."

"Of course!" Ah. The bastard had chosen to reenter the conversation again. "We are both so grateful for the family De Bourg and their condescension upon us. Why I said to Mrs. Collins last night that-" I ignored him for the rest of his lecture, and chose instead to admire the beautiful eyes which flitted about the room, returning to meet my gaze more often than I could dare hope expect, meeting my gaze with unnecessary gratitude, but also with a great amount of curiosity. I noticed, most hopefully of all, that the constant awkwardness that lie between us so often was not present now. My chest grew warm and I longed to be alone with her, only so that we could speak candidly, and have a normal conversation. Would that another young lady had married Mr. Collins. Would that we might meet now as people unattached. I would make her my wife tomorrow if I was able.

But alas, as Mr. Collins hand rested upon hers during his tirade, I came to the heartbreaking conclusion that not only had I completely missed my opportunity to make her the next Mrs. Darcy, but that in doing so, I had somehow condemned her to this fate. Had I proposed when we were last in Hertfordshire, had I given her another way to save her family from their entail... would we be prodigiously happy now? Or would she still have refused me, unaware of what terrors she would soon endure as the wife of one William M. Collins.

I stood suddenly, no longer in the mood to watch this horrific tableau play out before me. My cousin slowly followed suit, looking at me as though I had lost my sanity.

"I'm afraid we must be away." I interjected into Collins' diatribe on the foibles of young women these days. How we had gotten on that conversation quite eluded me just now. "My aunt requires us to run a few errands for her before we return. However on her behalf, might we invite you to Rosings for dinner this evening. My cousin and I are used to dining very much in company and she wishes to fill our table often in the duration of our stay. Dinner for only the four of us can grow rather quiet, and I detest the silence." Richard and Elizabeth were both suddenly overtaken by coughing fits, which I quickly realized was there attempt to cover laughter. I smiled softly. I had made her laugh. Conducting my face in as serious a manner as even I could attempt I finished my speech with the following. "Gaiety and society are, of course, the greatest pleasures of my life and I must thank my aunt for providing me with as much society and interaction as she possibly can while I dine at Rosings." Mr. Collins saw nothing amiss in my response and was in the process of agreeing likewise, both praising my aunt for her care of me, and concurring with my wish for society. Meanwhile, the most bewitching eyes I had ever seen were dancing in the afternoon light, her lips pursed in a smile which hid her true amusement, and her shoulders shook lightly with a silent laughter. With the joy of having brought her some lightheartedness today, I was still smiling long after Richard and I mounted our horses and took to the wooded paths near the parsonage, beginning our overly-long, circuitous route back to Rosings.

"Are you going to tell me what the hell that was?" Richard finally said, breaking the silence. "Come man, what am I to assume but that you and the delightful Mrs. Collins are-"

"Nothing. We are nothing."

"Yes. Use your bitter, angry voice, that is sure to convince me." I sighed. I would have to confess something or Richard would never let this go. He was still bringing up a secret I'd kept from him when I was 12.

"I... I dislike Mr. Collins. Strongly. I find it difficult to listen to his sermonizing when he so often... I find him a hypocrite is all. It makes him even more difficult to stomach. But his wife... is a former acquaintance of mine. It would be rude to spurn her just because she has the misfortune to be married to that buffoon."

"It is quite the mystery to me why a woman like that, with charm, grace, and if I do say so, some _fire_ in her spirit, would willingly shackle herself to a man like Collins, but that's the woman's mind for you, a place of mystery, Darce." Richard replied, accepting my fragmented sentence at face value. Why wouldn't he? I despised deceit... though just now, it was imperative and I found I did not mind it when doing so meant any sort of good thing for Elizabeth. We rode back in silence, my cousin taking in the glorious scenery of the spring day, and me, blaming myself for the most incredible woman of my acquaintance's marriage to a torturous bastard who was using her for both brood mare and, and...

I had to bite my lip to keep from tearing up. Something had to be done. Watching out for her when things got worse than usual wasn't enough. They must be separated. I couldn't allow this to continue.


	8. Chapter 8

**Fitzwilliam Darcy**

"We cannot do nothing!" I swore, slamming my fist on the table. My Aunt did not even flinch, though she did roll her eyes rather spectacularly.

"We are not doing nothing, nephew. We are caring for her as best as we can."

"It's, not, good enough." I hissed.

"It speaks well of your character that your honor is involved and that you wish to protect all and sundry," She began, her tone pinched and short. "But I lack the understanding as to why you feel so very protective of _this_ woman. If you wished to use your considerable talent and power to help this cause, than I might encourage you to go to London immediately, and pressure your uncle, and your friends in the peerage to make a change to the laws so that Lizzy and woman like her might have a chance."

"I intend to do so just before Parliament reopens for the season." I insisted. "A fight now will have lost steam by then. If I go immediately before the government reopens, there is a better chance of something coming of all of this." She looked surprised at that.

"You..."

"Have already written to several powerful friends, including your brother, in an attempt to plan a legal campaign which will give women more protection against their husbands. It will be a hell of a battle but it is one I intend to win, Aunt. In the meantime, I cannot sit here as her husband..." I closed my eyes for a brief moment. "We are not doing enough. She is under your protection and as such I take an interest in her." My aunt stared at me for a few moments, seeming to measure me up before continuing.

"I would like to assume that the reason you are so interesting in my interests is that you are considering making an offer to Anne soon, and know that they soon _will_ be your interests, but I suspect that is not the case."

"Aunt, neither Anne nor I have expressed any interest in-"

"We can discuss it later, Fitzwilliam. I am tired now, and I wish to rest."

"Aunt Catherine-" I began warningly.

"They are to come for supper!" She said suddenly. "You have ensured that she have an afternoon of peace as he attempts to polish his boots brighter than the Good Lord's halo, and she will be under our watchful eye all evening. We can ensure that our festivities go on long enough that he will to bed the moment he is arrived back at the parsonage and that he will sleep late the next morning. You have done enough for now. I will think on what you say, _after_ I get some rest." And with an imperious flick of her skirts, she was gone.

It wasn't enough. It wouldn't be enough until she was well out from under his power. Perhaps I aught to... what? Whisk her away to the continent? To the Americas? Live in sin for the rest of our lives, pretending we were married? No. She didn't even care for me like that. We were not even friends, we could hardly run away together. There must be a way to ensure her safety immediately. There had to be a way...

* * *

 **Elizabeth Collins**

I fiddled with my hatpin as the carriage rumbled further and further towards Rosings. It was unseasonably cold, and I was grateful for the thick cloak one of our parishioners had made for me after I had helped her during her travails. I shuddered at the thought. As if the idea of my current husband wasn't enough to drive away the desire for a child... my goodness, _that_ experience certainly had been plenty.

"It is an honor, do you not agree?" My husband was asking.

"Indeed." I replied with little idea what he was referring to.

"That her ladyship so often wishes me in her company only speaks well of her and her desire to be a good christian, of course, but I still feel the honor of her condescension greatly and I can only-" I didn't hear another word he said from there on as I had completely lost interest in this conversation and lacked the patience to pretend otherwise. My husband did not notice.

As the carriage stopped at Rosings' grand staircase, Mr. Collins all but leapt out of the carriage and hastened towards the short entourage of people, awaiting our arrival, completely forgetting about me, thank God. Nonetheless, as I moved to exit the coach, a hand reached up to help me down, and on instinct I took it. The sudden warmth surrounding my frozen fingers sent a small shock up my arm. With my feet firmly on the ground, I looked up at the man who belonged to the soft skin which still grasped my own hand. A pair of dark eyes stared at me intently and I found myself most flustered at the intensity on Mr. Darcy's face.

"Thank you, sir." I murmured attempting to pull my hand away delicately. He held it a moment more, and then another, my hand clasped tightly in his warm grip. "Sir." I begged him quietly, hoping not to draw attention to this... to whatever this was. He had merely assisted me from the carriage and now... I didn't know what this was but it felt like the sort of thing which would upset my husband given half a glance.

"I am pleased you have accepted my aunt's invitation to dine with us this evening." He said quietly.

"I believe it was you who delivered the invite, sir. Surely you did not think we would turn back on our word having already accepted you."

"And yet I found myself impatiently waiting for your arrival, fearing something would have prevented your attendance."

"I..." I trailed off, unsure how to respond. "My husband will wish to escort me inside, sir."

"Your husband is halfway up the stairs already and has not so much as glanced this way." A slight twitch of my eye confirmed this and I was struck with sudden relief, partly at not having to walk arm in arm with him, and part at the sudden release of my hand by Mr. Darcy. The whole thing had felt horribly... improper. My relief was short-lived.

"May I have the honor of escorting you to Her Ladyship?" He bowed gallantly and held out his arm. I looked around, my anxiety fully returned. Colonel Fitzwilliam was entertaining my husband, and the pair were conversing about something which must have been causing the Colonel great amusement given his expression, and the servants which had accompanied them were caring for the removal of the carriage from the entryway. Mr. Darcy and I were all but alone. I tentatively took his arm and tried not to nestle in too much to the warmth he was radiating.

"Cool evening, is it not, Mrs. Collins?" He asked casually.

"Quite. I understand it is not generally this cold this late in the year in Kent, but I cannot be displeased. I have always enjoyed the winter and would not mind another snowfall." There. Weather. A safe topic if I had ever heard one.

"You would very much enjoy Derbyshire, then, Madam. Winters last longer, and we see a great deal more snow than the rest of the country."

"Do you miss being at your estate very much?"

"Not as much as I usually do." He replied after a prolonged silence, his words sounding articulate, and careful. "I have found that pleasant company and a pair of very fine eyes negate the longing to depart." I frowned. Why could this man not just speak plainly?

"Anne is a beautiful woman, and I know more than most the pleasure of her company. I too miss my home less when I am with her." Mr. Darcy stopped moving, effectively pulling me back from my forward march.

"Miss Eliza-" He paused and cleared his throat. "Mrs. Collins, I believe you mistake my meaning. I find _you_ -"

"Lizzy!" The subject of our conversation strode down the hall towards us, and I found myself visibly impressed by how well she looked. Her new doctor was working wonders. "There you are! I've been waiting for you impatiently ever since my dear cousin told us he had invited your party to join us." We embraced tightly and I grinned at her mischievously.

"Mr. Collins will be most pleased to hear how you long for his company, my dear friend." She made a face as if she had smelled something foul and glared at me.

"Why you insist on willfully misunderstanding me for your own amusement is beyond me, Lizzy."

"Tell me, if I had made the same comment in response to your mother, would you not be highly amused." Her frown broke into a smile and she laughed at my statement.

"I see your meaning, but I still insist upon your playing for us this evening as payment for your teasing me."

"You know I can deny you nothing my dear friend. I would be happy to play the moment you express that it might bring you joy."

"Then I fear for your fingers, Lizzy, because your music always brings me joy." We took one another's arms and walked towards the parlor she had emerged from. It wasn't until we turned in, and I caught site of Mr. Darcy trailing behind us that I was reminded of our peculiar interaction. I was glad he had expressed enjoyment in his cousin's presence, however. I knew that Cate wished him for her, a good man whom she needn't worry about bringing harm of any kind to dear, sweet Anne. It was a good match and I hoped it was one my friend would acquiesce to. I knew she did not love him in any sense beyond the familial, but love could grow, and change, and a familial love was far more than most had in their marriages. Still. As the type of romantic who had once sworn only to wed for the deepest of loves, I hoped she would fall in such a love with him, and be truly, and incandescently happy with him.

* * *

 **A/N: Not a ton of plot, I know, but this all sets up for some big things that will happen in the near future! Please keep reviewing! So grateful for all of the comments and PMs thus far! xoxo - E**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews and support! I hope you all keep reading and reviewing!**

 **I went back and edited/changed chapter 7. If you don't feel like going back to reread the changes I'll summarize: Basically, Darcy doesn't tell Richard of his feelings for Elizabeth yet, and as such, Colonel Fitzwilliam does not have that perspective going into this chapter. Hopefully that helps shift some confusion with this chapter. Seriously, thank you all for the amazing reviews and PMs. I really appreciate them! xoxo - E**

* * *

 **Fitzwilliam Darcy**

Dinner was both infuriating and... infuriating. It was infuriating. Mr. Collins aught consider himself truly lucky that he managed to make it through the last course with his life still in his possession. Of course my cousin seemed to find my hatred for the man amusing, likely because he had no idea where it stemmed from, nor how deep the man's treachery and horrific nature ran. Collins was naught more than an annoyance he could play with, to Richard, and toy with him he did. I half feared the imbecile's realization of what Richard was about, knowing as I did that any frustration or perceived slight may be taken out upon Elizabeth, but I also found a perverse joy in watching him be demonstrated time and time again a true idiot. I enjoyed his discussion of Elizabeth far less. 'My wife' this, and 'My dearest Eliza', that. It made me sick. She should not be forced to be under his power. I took solace in the face that she seemed truly happy conversing with my cousin, Anne. Speaking off... She had thought me to be speaking of Anne's company. I had all but declared myself enamored in her, and she thought I was discussing Anne. Although... I sighed. I suppose one had to be more explicit or direct to a married woman, as flirtation was not the initial assumption one made when a man paid her a compliment. Damn! Why was this so difficult?

The separation of the sexes occurred and I felt my aunt's glare focused on me as I trailed Mr. Collins out of the room. I wasn't going to do anything horrible.

Probably.

I was going to try my best, anyway.

No promises.

"Tell us Mr. Collins, how you met your charming wife." Richard asked after we ran out of basic pleasantries to discuss. "She seems very well suited to your position here at Rosings specifically. I have never seen my aunt so easily won over." The man nearly beamed.

"Indeed. She has made just the right impression upon my Patroness. Of course I knew it would be so from the moment I met her, and dare I suggest, even before, for how could my own relations cause me any reason for doubt or disgrace."

"She is _your_ relation?!" It was nearly impossible to mistake the palpable shock that emanated out of my cousin at that proclamation, and to be fair, I understood. Not knowing the situation as intimately as I did, it would have been difficult for me to imagine that Elizabeth could have a relation as... one like Mr. Collins, anyhow. Luckily for us all, Mr. Collins was not the type to understand slights of that nature, no matter their lack in subtlety.

"Indeed. My good cousin Bennet is her father."

"Mr. Collins is to inherit Mis-Mrs. Collins' father's estate upon his demise."

"It was this of course which prompted Lady Catherine to suggest I look for my future partner in life from Bennet's broad. Upon Mr. Bennet's passing, they would be promptly overturned from the estate by a wife unconnected to my dear cousins, but in this manner, the mistress might look out for her sisters and mother, as any good woman might." I bit my tongue from commenting upon how a good man might offer his cousins assurances of sanctuary without the necessity of one of them submitting themselves to him as his wife, but in this moment, my usual stoicism wherein I refrained from commentary would serve me well.

"I see." Richard's eyes flashed to mine for a moment.

"Indeed, of course my eyes initially landed upon the current Mrs. Collins elder sister, as Jane is my Eliza's superior in both looks and mannerisms," I disguised my indignant laugh as a cough and I took a long sip of my brandy to calm my nerves at such a ridiculous proclamation. "However she was quite set upon a local gentleman, and with her heart thusly engaged, I saw the sense in what my cousin suggested and I applied for Miss Elizabeth's hand instead."

"Bennet persuaded you to wed-" I swallowed back her Christian name and forced myself to use the more bitter monicker. "The current, Mrs. Collins?"

"No, as you may recall for you were in the area at the time, my cousin Bennet was quite ill at the time, it was his wife's initial suggestion and when I spoke to Mrs. Collins about my hesitation in leaving my suit of her sister, she assured me of a more positive reception from her, as her sister's heart was quite thoroughly involved in the local gentlemen. I will refrain from naming him sir, for as you will know intimately he was quick to leave the community and has not returned, and his reputation should not suffer because my cousin felt more than he. Perhaps his spurning of her will teach her a lesson about refusing a far more realistic offer." He puffed his chest up a bit at this and I would have gladly punched him had my mind not been reeling with this sudden influx of information. Elizabeth had wed him, not just to save her family at the thought of her father's passing, but also to save Miss Bennet from the same fate. And Miss Bennet, perhaps the idiot had the wrong of it, but if her heart had truly been engaged with my friend, I had been mistaken to separate them. There were other concerns of course, ones that Bingley's sisters had raised, but their want of connections, and lack of wealth meant nothing if they were truly in love and happy. The knowledge that she loved him not, and that she was following her mercenary mother's advice over her own heart was what provoked me into action. I must speak with Elizabeth. And if Miss Bennet's heart was truly touched... I would write to Bingley. I would tell him I had been mistaken and I would allow Elizabeth's sacrifice to mean something more than the potential future of her sisters and mother not being evicted within weeks of her father's death.

"Dance-" Richard was looking at me oddly and glanced back at Mr. Collins.

"I was in Hertfordshire during all of these occurrences." I informed him. "Staying at the neighboring estate to Longhorn, Mrs. Collins' natural home."

"Ah. So your connection with Mr. and Mrs. Collins is more than I had assumed." As loath as I was to connect myself with the name Collins, I would not deny Elizabeth.

"More so with the Bennets." I finally commented. "Mr. Collins did not arrive until nearly a month after my own initial presence in the town, and I left nearly immediately after their engagement was announced." Because their engagement was announced. Though I needn't divulge that now.

"Indeed. Mr. Darcy was far too kind, condescending upon my cousins so often and with such grace. A kindness very much so befitting your station, sir." He bowed ridiculously.

"On the contrary, Mr. Collins. I am a gentleman. Mr. Bennet holds the equal title, and his wife and daughters, are equal to my own excellent sister." Richard's brow furrowed and he looked at me as if I had proclaimed the sky to be red. "It was no condescension, rather precisely what _my station_ would require of me, do you not think?" I allowed him to sputter a few moments more before declaring it time to rejoin the others. He was happy for the distraction and traipsed, nearly hopping, off towards the parlor where the ladies resided. Richard grabbed my arm.

" _Equal to your sister?_ " He hissed, teasingly. At least I hoped he was teasing, because an angered or perturbed Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam was nothing to joke around about. " _You do not think Mary herself equal to did these Bennet ladies do to deserve more praise than the Virgin_ _Mother?"_

"He was annoying me." I replied, hoping it was enough.

"Darcy be honest, are you in love with her?" He asked, keeping his voice low enough we would not be overheard by anyone more than a meter away from us. I froze.

"I..."

"Because I know you well enough to know that you are absolutely the sort to self sacrifice, and if you love her it isn't too late."

"It's... what?" Not too late? She was married! The very definition of 'too late'.

"By all accounts, this Miss Bennet is still pining for you back in Hertfordshire and you could easily go back and sweep her off her feet."

"Richard, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Oh come on, man! It's obvious you were the gentleman he refused to name, who left Mrs. Collins elder sister behind. Who gives a damn if your future wife is a cousin of Mr. Collins? Hell we'll probably be in his wife's company more often if that is the case and I wouldn't mind such a fate. The woman is nothing short of charming. If her sister is anything like her, you would be a lucky man indeed. Aunt Catherine will get over it, hell I'll even offer for Anne and her vast fortune if it takes her mind off you. Annie would never say yes to a man like me, so we'd all be safe!"

"Richard you have a unique talent of so utterly mistaking every situation around you."

"What? You mean to tell me your heart is not engaged? That you falling in a healthy bit of love isn't what's got you all... secretive and strange lately?"

"Miss Jane Bennet is a lovely girl. She is classically beautiful and nothing short of delicately charming. I do believe she and Georgiana would get on swimmingly, better than with Bingley's other family members. And _Bingley's_ family is exactly what she almost became last summer, as he had fallen head over heals in love."

"Mrs. Collins's sister is the 'angel' you told me of? The one who's family was unsuitable for Bingley?" I sighed.

"It was more than that. The mother was mercenary, and the daughter... meek enough that she would do as her mother requested and marry for his money. I thought... I never thought she loved him but if Elizabeth took her place as Collins' wife so that she could be with the man she loved..." I ran my hand through my hair. "Perhaps I was mistaken. Perhaps I overstepped."

"You were protecting your friend, Darcy, I doubt that you-"

"No. No I did, I overstepped. In what world was it my place to tell Bingley whom he should wed?"

"He asked your opinion."

"Only because I encouraged the vipers known as his sisters to speak to him of their own fears of the match, stemmed entirely from Miss Bingley's desire for power and status, and not at all from a desire for her brother's happiness."

"Darcy, what the hell is going on with you? I've never seen you so... you don't make decisions without a great deal of care. I am certain that you put more thought into it than you suggest now, and that it was the right action on your part. I have never known you to make a rash decision that you regretted and I am certain that isn't the case now, either."

"The..." I sighed. "I think the real reason I supported Bingley abandoning his suit of Miss Bennet was because I knew if he married her I would be often in contact with her sisters and ... and I found that insupportable."

"How many sisters are there exactly?"

"Five in total."

"Good Lord, and with the estate entailed away, you said? Indeed I cannot imagine another situation wherein someone would spurn their own son or even daughters as intelligent as Mrs. Collins in support of _that_ man. In fact, that begins to shine some light on the Collins's marriage."

"Yes. The estate makes bare two thousand per annum, and it is poorly invested. I doubt the dowries are anything greater than one hundred pounds, if that. And there are four other unmarried sisters to take into account, and a mother to care for upon the demise of Mr. Bennet."

"Three." Richard cut in.

"Sorry?"

"Three unmarried sisters. If someone was to marry one of Mrs. Collins four sisters, there would be three unmarried sisters. Mrs. Collins is obviously married." I flinched and Richard noticed.

"You're not talking about now. You're talking about then, before they wed." He began slowly, realizing the extent of what I had revealed.

"Of course," I tried to cover my careless speech. "That was when Bingley was considering-"

"You had an attachment to Mrs. Collins."

"Nonsense."

"Darce-"

"I... I already told you..." I stuttered, trying to remember exactly what I _had_ told him earlier today on our ride back from the parsonage.

"You told me you hated Collins but it was no reason to spurn an acquaintance whose company you enjoyed. You never said anything more. But it's true, isn't it? You love her, Mrs. Collins. That's why you were so upset by her marriage to Collins."

"I won't marry Anne," I finally said, speaking more to myself than to him, with sudden clarity.

"No one really expects you to, Darce, Aunt Catherine will get over it as soon as she realizes its for naught."

"I won't marry anyone." I amended.

"Darce, you aren't-"

"I love her. Entirely. If I can't marry her... what would be the point, Richard?"

"Off the top of my head? Heirs, a companion into your old age, a sister for Georgiana, because one day you'll get over the country girl who thawed your heart of stone and find love somewhere else. Can I just say-"

"I don't want it. Not if it isn't with her. I don't want some other woman's children inheriting Pemberley. I don't want someone to grow old with who isn't her. I don't... your own sister is sister enough for Georgiana, why should she settle for less?"

"Less than my sister?"

"I love her. Not just... not like Bingley. Not in passing. Not because she's beautiful. She has bewitched me body and soul and I cannot live a lie of weding another."

"Darcy."

"He hurts her." I said, angrily. "She is in hell, and all because I couldn't be bothered to realize all of this sooner. It is my fault. Every bruise, every forced-" I bit my own lip so hard I tasted blood at that thought. "They are all my fault. I am as much to blame as that monster."

"What do you mean he hurts her, Darce?" Richard asked, his eyes wide and his voice worried.

"If I thought it would help her for even a moment, I would have killed him long ago." I frowned. Why was I not convinced it would help her? I would be in jail, possibly hung, but... she didn't love me anyway. She would not be hurt by my demise, so why wouldn't it help her? She could return to Longhorn. She could find love and marry.

"What is that demonic look in your eyes, Fitzwilliam?" Richard asked, his voice low and full of fear. "Why do I suddenly think you meant that?"

"He deserves to die, Richard. What he's done..." I swallowed hard. "He nearly killed her a fortnight ago. It's why she was here with Anne. It's why they stayed to her rooms for the majority of her stay. She was beaten black and blue, there was blood... God so much blood. It's a miracle she didn't die. She had to be half carried in through the front door."

"My God, Darcy, and you let me joke around with him this whole time?" In his defense, Richard did look truly horrified.

"The law doesn't protect her from nearly dying at the hands of that monster. Nothing does."

"Well surely there's something to be done."

"Yes." I swore. "Take the dog out and shoot him."

"Rather dramatic, don't you think?" Before Richard could respond, a cutting but decidedly feminine voice cut into our conversation. I spun around to look into the most bewitching pair of eyes I had ever beheld.

"Elizabeth."

"And an odd place to have such a private conversation, in the middle of a hall, where anyone could stumble upon you on their way back to the parlor and overhear." She continued before curtseying gently. "Colonel Fitzwilliam, Mr. Darcy." She greeted us both sharply before stepping closer to me, her eyes boring into mine, furious. God. Those eyes. "I might caution you not to speak upon what you know not of." She was defending him. She was... she was defending him?!

"Are you denying it, madam?" I asked, my anger overtaking any other response I might have had.

"I am only reminding you, that as someone wholly unconnected to any of the principle parties, your words may be seen as meddling at best."

"Forgive us, Mrs. Collins. We didn't intend-"

"How can you say such?" I asked, interrupting my cousin without care. "How can you-"

"Beyond that you are bantering about my deepest shame in such a public place?" She hissed back at me stepping forward. "My, I wonder how I might take offense to such officious behavior."

"Officious behavior?!" I returned. "Forgive me for caring."

"I do not!" She insisted. "I have naught to do with you. I am the wife of your Aunt's parson, and nothing more. Perhaps one day I may count myself among the friends of your wife, but I hardly think such a relationship will thrive with such difference and the visitation of her home parish no more than once a year, and as such I am cautious of-"

"I will not wed Anne!" Her face fell and I found myself once more confounded by this woman and her infuriatingly confusing tendencies.

"You aught to."

"Ah, I see my own feelings are not to be consulted in the arrangement of my own marriage. Is there anything else, Lady Catherine has seen fit to convince you of? Perhaps she and my mother wished for me to become a Scottish Dancer and learn to play the bagpipes!" Elizabeth scoffed at my proclamation.

"She doesn't desire the match in any attempt to control you."

"No for it isn't me she desires for Anne, it's Pemberley. My father was meant to marry her until he fell in love with her younger sister and she's never forgotten the slight. She wishes Pemberley under her control once and for all and-"

"You are a fool, Fitzwilliam Darcy." Elizabeth said coldly. "She wishes you for Anne because she knows that with you, Anne will be safe."

"What does that mean? There are plenty of wealthy men who could keep her in comfort and-"

"Not comfortable, not rich, not powerful, nor wealthy, Mr. Darcy. Safe. Lady Catherine knows as well as I how rare that is in a marriage, how a wife is..." She flushed and blinked a few times, centering herself in her words. "She wishes for Anne better than she or I had. And she knows that whatever else anyone might claim, you would not raise a finger against her, nor force her into relations she did not wish, nor-" Elizabeth took a shuttering breath. "She wishes, above all else, for Anne to avoid our fate, and for her to be safe. You, Fitzwilliam Darcy, are her hope. Because she knows whatever else happens, Anne would be safe. That is why she presses you. And I cannot blame her, and only add that if you truly wish to help me, for whatever reason, killing my husband would do no one any good. But it would give me peace of mind to know that my friend was so well cared for. I would press you to wed your cousin just as your aunt does." Elizabeth looked between Richard and I, took in our shocked expressions, and decided her part in the conversation was over. With a curtsey and the flick of her chin, she stepped away from us and made her way in the direction Mr. Collins had disappeared to. She paused for just a moment and turned back.

"It wouldn't help." She said. "My husband has a younger brother. By all accounts he... it wouldn't help. I have not endured for nothing. I will not see one of my other sisters forced to submit to the same fate as I. So I beg of you, consider others before you decide you need to act the hero and save some damsel who never asked for your help in the first place."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I had decided not to clap back to anyone on this story... but then someone left me no choice. So. To the guest who reviewed the following:**

Well she certainly speaks out and orders the life of someone who she knows will not harm her. In a way that makes her no better than others in her life that use someone they have the power over for their own ends. She is a coward the same as her husband.  
Mr Collins persecutes and orders about those he has the power over and bows and scrapes to those who have the power over him.

 **I'm sorry. You aren't actually saying that you think that Elizabeth is just as bad as Mr. Collins, are you? You aren't honestly equating 'speaking up for herself, and telling someone to stop interfering in her life when that is in fact exactly what they are doing, intentions aside,' with 'physically and sexually abusing your spouse who has no recourse from the law' are you? You aren't honestly saying that a woman who is doing what she needs to in order to survive, a woman who is finally starting to stand up for herself again, a woman who is the victim of horrific acts, is just as bad as her abuser? You aren't honestly trying to tell me right now that Elizabeth telling Darcy to stop being involved when he's only making things worse, is the same as raping someone and beating them within an inch of their life? You aren't seriously trying to tell me that a woman standing up for herself is a coward, or even, at a base level of your commentary, that a woman who tells a man off for gossiping about her private information is somehow 'controlling' him and abusing her 'power' over him? She doesn't have any power over him! There is no logic to anything you just said, and honestly, as someone who has been in Elizabeth's position here, I am so pissed off right now. I have no problem with people hating this fic, or hating these OOC characters, or not wanting to read this, but to put out the idea that someone sticking up for themselves is as cowardly and despicable as abuse is beyond not okay, and I want to comment for anyone who is reading this, who has been in my shoes, or in Lizzy's shoes, that this is not the case. That you CAN take control of your destiny, and that you can stand up for yourself to the people around you, those who are complicit with the abuse, and those who are prepared to be 'your hero' when then are, in fact, making it worse for you. And I also want to make it clear to you that if you need someone to talk to, or you need help, I am here for you 24/7 and I urge you to reach out. Anyway... rant over. Luckily for all involved I wrote this chapter before I read that review so the anger I'm feeling right now will not be permeated into every word of this chapter:) xoxo - E**

* * *

 **Elizabeth Collins**

I was mortified. How dare he? How dare he share such intimate details of my life with his cousin, as if it were idle gossip?! I was on my back from the lavatory and I stumbled upon them, gossiping. _About me_.

 _He deserves to die, Richard, for what he's done._ The words had caught my attention before I had even realized who they were referring to. My husband. And by extension, me. And then he had described my mortification. I hadn't realized that he had even known. I had to pinch the skin on my wrist to keep myself from tearing up. People knew. People who were respectable, and good, and... I hadn't like him much, but Mr. Darcy was a good man. He had always been an honorable man. And he knew personal details about the dishonor that was my marriage.

"My dear, you don't look well." Mr. Collins cut into my thoughts and I realized that at some point during my replaying what I had overheard and the subsequent conversation with Mr. Darcy and his cousin - A Colonel in the King's Army, dear God did my mortification know no bounds? - over and over in my head, I had navigated the parlor and sat between my husband and dear Anne, giving the appearance of my investment in the conversation about God knows what, until this moment.

"Forgive me, I'm afraid I'm feeling a touch straight-laced." I murmured, hinting at an issue with my undergarments. Surely he wouldn't press me on that.

"Perhaps we should make our excuses and leave for the evening." I glanced up, startled, surely he wasn't suddenly demonstrating a sense of care for me now. Surely he wasn't _worried_ for me. There was a glint in his eyes that I recognized. Ah. Not worry for me then. Just an avid desire to impregnate me as soon as possible.

"I don't wish to be the cause of the Ladyship's displeasure of us not complying with her plans. Anne mentioned that she had hoped for a concert later, I would hate to displease her, don't you think, husband?" He frowned slightly.

"Astute, wife. You shall have to suffer a bit longer I'm afraid." I nodded, complacently, unable to form a response for two gentlemen entered the room, both trying very hard not to look in my direction and they distracted me so thoroughly, and I needed all my focus in an attempt not to blush, or make it obvious that I was horrified.

"It has begun to snow." Colonel Fitzwilliam said conversationally. "How odd, for this late in April."

"Nonsense. There is still two feet on the ground in Derbyshire." Mr. Darcy replied, his voice slightly higher pitched than usual. "The snow often stays until much later in the month."

"But this is Kent, Fitzwilliam." Catherine replied, as if she were the authority on the subject of weather and geolocation. "Snow has long given way to green grass by now. Our sleighs have been put away for the year. If the snow gets too deep over the next few days, I doubt the wheels will manage. I'd rather not rework the carriage situation."

"And I doubt you'll have to. It probably won't even stick on the ground. It's been warm enough that the ground will melt the snow."

It had better Richard." She amended, as if it would be his own fault if he were wrong. I bit back a smile and happened to catch Mr. Darcy's gaze, as he too, attempted to hide his amusement. His eyes held my gaze for a few moments, and I found I couldn't look away until Anne said my name moments later.

"Yes?" I asked, smiling at my friend.

"You did promise to play for me, Elizabeth. Perhaps I could persuade one of my cousins to turn the pages for you, for they both know how to read music well enough to employ the task."

"Are you growing weary of the job then?" I teased her.

"Not at all, but I thought it might be helpful for someone who knows the instrument to do so, rather than you having to nod to me whenever you are ready for the next page."

"Nonsense, how could I play without you by my side!" I exclaimed.

"She has been kind enough to offer a replacement, my dear." Mr. Collins began jovially. "No matter what she says, it would appear she has grown weary of the task. You should not push her."

"Not at all Mr. Collins. I delight in your wife's playing and would be happy to take over the task."

"No, you wish to listen from here then." He cut her off, attempting to be galant. "I would be happy to attempt the assignment if need be and I-"

"I shall do it." Mr. Darcy cut in with an air of finality. After all eyes went to him he bowed his head slightly and explained himself. "My sister is a wonderful player and I find myself missing my designated task of turning her pages the longer I am away from her. It would bring me great joy to undertake the business for you Mrs. Collins."

"How very kind of you sir!" My husband cut in. "I am certain that you will do admirably, though I caution you not to expect such expertise from Eliza as from your sister, as she has not had the-"

"You forget sir, that I have had the privilege of hearing your wife play before, several times. I am sure you would agree that no one who heard her playing could find anything lacking in her performance. I certainly would not make such claims. I am certain that we will all be charmed." He stood as he spoke, now towering over Mr. Collins and for once the man had the sense to be silent. Mr. Darcy held out his arm to me and escorted me to the instrument. What was he playing at? Why did he hate my husband so and why was he so intent on meddling in my affairs. He sat on the bench beside me, perhaps a little too close for comfort, but I was certain that I only thought so because his presence at all was disconcerting me a great deal at present.

"I meant it," he said lowly as I worked through the introduction of the piece I had chosen to begin with. "Your playing is nothing short of charming. I have long enjoyed listening to you."

"What are you playing at, sir? What do you intend? Your words earlier... how anyone can speak so cavalierly about taking the life of another, no matter what they've done... I don't know what to think, sir."

"Fitzwilliam."

"What about him?"

"No. My name. It is Fitzwilliam."

" _Mr. Darcy."_ I insisted with a hiss. "I was unaware that _you_ were aware of my... of the particulars of my marriage. I am not sure how such knowledge came to be in your possession and I am particularly unfamiliar with what provoked you to think it was the sort of knowledge you had any form of permission to share with someone else, but I would like to make it clear, here and now, that I do not wish you to share it again. I would ask you to remain silent on the subject, and I would urge you to attempt to forget what you already know, or at the very least, never think on it again."

"You ask too much me Miss Elizabeth."

"Mrs. Collins." I bit back. The nerve of him.

"I beg of you not to ask me to call you that name."

"It is my name."

"Elizabeth-"

"Don't. I have not given you permission to address me thusly, and I know for a fact that my husband would be most displeased by such familiarity. I beg you once more not to speak so cavalierly. You know, more than I'd like, that I have more reason than some to ensure his wishes are followed."

"Is it true?"

"Is _what_ true? You obviously know it is or it wouldn't be a rumor you would spread-"

"No, I... was he intending to propose to your elder sister? And did you persuade him against it not because you thought she could make a more advantageous match but because she loved my friend and you wished her to wed for love?" My fingers fumbled on the keys and I noticed that the attention of the others was drawn as I made a mistake. I was silent until I heard their chattering commence and I could check that Mr. Collins was no longer paying attention to aught but Her Ladyship.

"Why do you care?"

"Because if it's true than I owe several apologies, and I wish to make amends for mistakes."

"Why do you insist on confusing me, sir?"

"Please Eliz-" He inhaled sharply. "Please. Answer me. Is it true?"

"It's true." I said eventually. "My mother was already pushing him in my direction so it wasn't hard to let him know my answer would be favorable, and get assurance of the event happening before..." It was my turn to inhale deeply. "Before my father passed. God be praised, that event has yet to occur, but as you are aware, it was less certain he would survive last summer."

"You sacrificed yourself for them."

"They are my sisters, sir. Tell me, is there anything you would not do for your own sister?"

"Nothing."

"I told you once that I would wed for love, and I did. The deepest of love, that of a sister."

"But you didn't know-"

"Even if I had... it wouldn't have made a difference, sir. Which of my sisters should I have chosen in my place? Mary? Because she is devout, and would likely believe the vitriol that he spewed towards her, does that make her more deserving of such a fate? Or perhaps Kitty, because she is silly enough she would do what anyone in a power position would tell her to do. Maybe it would have been better for her to take my place, and live a life where her every decision is controlled by another. Or is it Lydia? Who would be even less inclined to play his games than I, and would have been destroyed before her 17th birthday. Should I sacrifice her for my own safety? And Jane... Jane loved Bingley. Should I have had her chose between her heart and her family? If you can tell me sir, which of my sisters I should have offered up in my place, I beg of you, do so."

"You... you said yourself, that the relationship would have been different for each. Perhaps Kitty or Mary wouldn't have provoked his ire, and they could truly have been-"

"Shame on you. Bite your tongue sir, before you utter another word which causes me such pain. They are my sisters. And even if I had assurances that this was not how he would treat them... I would not allow them under his power for a moment. Even if you knew a man wouldn't hurt her, would you allow your sister to be under a man's power who was not truly deserving of her?" I saw true pain flash across his face and he closes his eyes for a moment.

"Forgive me, you are right. Still..."

"Still nothing. I am happy." His eyes careened wildly and he looked at me with anguish written across his features.

"How-"

"I have friends here. I have a purpose here. It is not all bad."

"And are those friends worth-"

"You don't know. I understand you wish to... no. I do not understand your intentions all, sir, but you must know, that you don't understand either. I am doing real, tangible good here. I saved a woman's life two months ago. The midwife was unable to get to her home, and she nearly died in childbirth. I saved her. I nursed her back to health. She and her son are doing well now. I am able to provide for the needs of this parish in a way that Catherine never has simply because people don't tell her what they need. She cares, she really does, but people have this perception that she does not, and as such, no one tells her how she can help. I solve that problem. They talk to me and together Catherine and I can change their lives. And Anne... I have never had a friend who is so... she is a true innocent, sir. She doesn't understand the darkness in the world because as true as the Virgin Mary she is all that is good and deserves nothing but the best in life. I count myself lucky to know her." I had to cease speaking as a particularly difficult part arose and Mr. Darcy took notice of my increased concentration, and remained silent as I struggled through it. Luckily, no noticeable mistakes were made and my husband continued to praise the carpeting and furniture for the dozenth time this month.

"There's more than just that. You do not understand. You know a sliver of my life and think you have the whole of it. I beg of you sir, do not intrude into what you don't understand. Your honor is not engaged in this fight. It is best to keep it that way."

"My honor? Is that what you think?" He asked, turning to the last page.

"Mr. Darcy-"

"Fitzwilliam, Elizabeth. My name is Fitzwilliam." His voice was low, and quiet and I would be lying if I said it wasn't the cause of the shivers down my spine. "And whatever you think of my honor, it is not the reason I am engaged in this fight, as you put it." I finished the song then, and smiled graciously at the spattering of applause echoing around the cavernous room. I pushed against the bench in an attempt to stand, but without warning, Mr. Darcy's warm hand covered mine and in the shadow of my skirts, his fingers caressed the backs of mine, before weaving our hands together and squeezing gently. It felt an eternity but it must have only lasted a moment, as no one else gave any sign that they noticed the interaction. He released my hand and I hurried to Anne's side, embracing my friend. I spoke, but the words felt unimportant. Something about hoping she was pleased and that I would have to learn something new for her to listen to. She promised to purchase the sheet music of songs she enjoyed for me to practice and the conversations around the room commenced, as if the world hadn't just shifted beneath our feet. My hand tingled, and while I fought tooth and nail not to look to Mr. Darcy, my eyes betrayed me, darting towards him, and I saw as he flexed his fingers in the way I wished I could at present. He was just as affected as I. Did he... it was almost as if he...

Bluer than blue eyes met mine and I felt myself gasp as I looked into them.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Shit is about to get really, really real. If you have been offended by Lizzy's handling of her abuse in the past, this chapter is probably not for you. No outright abuse in this chapter, so no trigger warnings, but... peeps have been weird about how my Lizzy reacts to situations and information and I just foresee this as a problem for those people... anyway... I hope you enjoy this chapter and please, pretty please, with a cherry on top, PM me or leave a review!**

 **Fitzwilliam Darcy**

Confounded woman. How did she not understand? How did she not see? What did I have to do to spell it out for her? I was in love with her. I loved her. It was torture to know what she endured at the hands of the sycophant. He deserved nothing short of death. He deserved a long, painful death, where he begged her forgiveness every second of the way. And yet... she had begged me to stay my hand. Perhaps because she didn't understand... but she had asked that he be spared. How did someone in her position ask for her tormenter to be spared? His brother... was this man worse? What did it mean? What did any of this mean? I followed her back to the group, listening politely to Anne compliment her music and her husband to over thank my aunt for allowing her to practice here at Rosings so often. When everyone had said their piece, a few naturally looked to Richard, the only one who had yet to comment on her playing.

"It... it is quite late in April for snow in this region, aunt. I've been thinking of your words." He stuttered out uncomfortably. "Why do you think that is?" Elizabeth's expression shifted to one of... well I wasn't sure exactly but it was certainly due to the snub of my cousin's words.

"You played magnificently, Mrs. Collins." I told her honestly. "I always find myself quite moved by the expression you put into the music. One can always tell when it is your hands which move across the keys." She swallowed harshly and nodded her thanks, avoiding speaking on the subject by turning to my cousin and continuing on in his discussing of the weather.

"Snow is an interesting bit of weather, don't you think? You know scientists seem to think that no two snowflakes are alike."

"Nonsense." Mr. Collins cut in shaking his head. "They are all the same. One needs only eyes to see it."

"You are right about one part of that, Mr. Collins." Anne cut in, surprising me a bit more with her excited dialogue. "When we were young, mama used to send us out with the servants, with dark paper, or cloth, and we could watch as the snowflakes fell, each with a different pattern. Then we would come in and draw all the flakes we saw for mama."

"We?" Elizabeth asked kindly. She smiled at me kindly.

"Richard, Fitzwilliam, Margaret, and I."

"Margret is my sister." I frowned at Richard. His voice was higher in pitch than usual, and slightly strained. Why was he... oh. Oh. His gaze was continually darting back towards Mr. Collins, and it looked rather furious. He looked rather furious. I had told him of the Parson's transgressions. He now knew of the beast's actions towards Elizabeth. He was reacting not entirely unlike me when I first discovered the truth. I aught to cut him a little slack, but I found myself to impatient with all the pretense going on in this room to allow such magnanimity just now.

"How many siblings do you have, Colonel?" Elizabeth asked kindly, prompting the conversation to seemingly safer territory.

"One sister, and a brother. Though I have often thought of Georgiana, Darcy's own excellent sister as my own as she spent a great deal of her childhood in my family home. She is far more than a cousin to me."

"How wonderful. I have four sisters, you see, and I have often found large families to be ideal."

"Indeed!" Her husband cut in, reaching over and taking her hand in his. I flinched at the reaction, and I saw Richard do the same. I also saw my aunt roll her eyes at us, clearly possessing little patience with our overt reactions despite Collins' inability to perceive them. "My cousins make a lovely family, and it is with this model in mind that my wife and I have decided that we would like a large family as well. We hope that in time we might be able to announce the expectancy of-"

"Mr. Collins." My aunt declared loudly, cutting him off. "I hardly think that an appropriate topic in front of my unmarried daughter." Mr. Collins flushed and I felt my stomach drop. This was precisely the sort of embarrassment my aunt said might be taken out on Elizabeth. How could she- "I believe we were speaking of the weather. Of snow. And I'm afraid that my footman has informed me that the snow has been avidly falling over the past half hour. It is far too deep to send out the carriage and I do not wish to unload the sleighs from their spring and summer locations. Unless you wish to walk home in this storm, I would like to extend an invitation to you both to stay the night with us. For as long as the weather remains inclimate." Collins sputtered wildly, thank her profusely for her condescension upon them and accepting immediately. Elizabeth, however, was frozen. Unmoving. Staring blankly ahead.

"Perhaps, Mr. Collins," Anne was saying. "You might tell a footman if there is aught that might be collected from your home by your servants to be sent up to the house. I am quite certain that Mrs. Collins will have plenty of people to borrow from if need be, she and Mrs. Jenkinson are of the same size after all, but I am afraid none of the servants, nor our guests here are of like stature with yourself." Collins rose and exited the room, speaking animatedly to a footman of what would be required, without a single thought to how the trek he was unwilling to make himself might affect the servant sent on such a task in the first place. The moment the door shut beside him, Anne was back at Elizabeth's side, gripping her hands tightly. This seemed like something Elizabeth did not want an audience for and after a significant nod of my head to my cousin, he took up my cue, and we made a show of walking to the window and pretending to be quite out of earshot, listening in all the while.

"What is it, Lizzy?"

"I didn't... it's late in April for the snow."

"The weather?" Anne questioned, her voice wavering a bit with uncertainty then. "You are upset by-"

"It's late in April." Elizabeth replied. "Oh dear God above."

"It's just snow, Lizzy. And it will be so fun to have you here all the time." Anne brushed off her upset, clearly excited by the prospect of her friend living in her home. My aunt however, had grown similarly pale.

"How long?"

"I... I don't know I'm trying to... to remember..." Elizabeth stuttered.

"How long since what?" Anne insisted, growing frustrated.

"Since the last snow." Aunt Catherine spat out, her short temper directed towards Anne for the first time I had ever heard.

"It snowed lightly a few-"

"Quiet, Anne." Her Ladyship cut her off, rising and walking over to Elizabeth, sitting beside her and taking Elizabeth's hands from Anne's grasp and into her own. "Count." Elizabeth whispered something I couldn't overhear and Aunt Catherine closed her eyes for a moment before pulling Elizabeth into a hug. I was no longer sneaking momentary glances in their direction, I was outright staring and so was Richard. Aunt Catherine did not hug people. She barely touched them at all if she had the choice. I had seen her physically recoil from the touches of others, even if they were only reaching out a hand to put on her arm or the like. And here she was, holding Elizabeth close to her chest like a beloved child.

"It is not the end of the world." Aunt Catherine was saying.

"I think it might be." Elizabeth returned.

"It is not. You know my story, and-"

"Cate." Richard's eyes widened and he drew his head back in wonder. Cate. Elizabeth had just called the formidable Lady Catherine De Bourg, 'Cate'. In order to interrupt her. And gotten away with it by the looks of things. "I can't do this." My aunt was silent for a while.

"Anne, please go speak with Mrs. Jenkinson. See that she can arrange for some of Lizzy's things to be prepared for her toilet. Then I would like you to personally oversee the preparation of Elizabeth's room. The green room. And be sure that a footman can break the lock between the connecting door so that it is unusable."

"But mama-"

"Now, Anne." Anne hastened to do what she was asked as Lady Catherine turned to us.

"I imagine two young men such as yourselves can find another way to amuse yourselves than stand just out of hearing range of two ladies gossiping, yes?"

"They know." Elizabeth said quietly.

"Richard has no-"

"Mr. Darcy felt it prudent to share what information he possessed with his cousin. They know. And I doubt you have any need to protect a Colonel in the King's Army and a grown man of eight and twenty from the darkness of the world as you do Anne."

"Still Lizzy. They need not hear what I am about to say."

"Does it matter? Does any of it matter? Oh God he will be so damned pleased." She cried out angrily. "He will... he's been wanting this for a long time now. He's upset that I have yet to be successful but now... oh God he will be so happy." She was crying now. "What do I do, Cate? What do I do?" She was growing frantic and my aunt seemed torn between settling her and kicking Richard and I out of the room. Finally she took a deep breath and looked at Elizabeth sadly.

"You have a choice, just as I did, with Anne. You do not have to do this. There is a woman in a nearby town. She... she helps women with this problem." Elizabeth laughed out a sob, and stood, pressing her hands into her stays.

"That is no choice, Catherine!"

"It is the only choice you have."

"No. No I... I could send it away. To... to someone, or... or... I don't know."

"Lizzy your husband is an idiot but he's not _that_ much of an idiot. He will know. And he will never let you-"

"I could say it died. When it's born. I could say it died and then you could help me spirit it away." Born? What was she... my eyes fixated on how she now held her stomach in her hands. Born. She was... oh God above. She was pregnant with the bastard's child. Suddenly all eyes were on me.

"If you cannot control your outbursts, Fitzwilliam, I will make you regret it." Catherine hissed at me. Had I spoken out loud? Which part? I stared at the women before me, taking in the fire in my aunt's eyes and the hopelessness in Lizzy's. My darling Lizzy.

"He will take it out on you. Losing the child. It's better he not know."

"I will endure it. I have endured as much and I will again. I can do this."

"You need to think like a grown woman, now Lizzy. The stakes have risen and you need to make the smart choice."

"I will not allow another to be under his power."

"It could all be arranged. By this time next week there wouldn't even be a problem."

"It's a _child_ , Cate. How am I-"

"Lizzy, it is not as monstrous as that."

"I do not judge those who have gone before me but it is not a choice I can make. Please. Tell me you will help me get it to safety."

"There's another option." I growled, interjecting.

"I believe I made it clear what I thought about you inserting yourself into this conversation." My Aunt snapped at me.

"That isn't an option either." Lizzy returned. "I've already told you to forget you even thought of such evil."

"There is no evil in slaying a monster."

"Slaying a- Fitzwilliam!" Instantly, my aunt began to curse me for even saying such, my cousin asking a million questions, not fully understanding what was going on, but speaking his support for my plan at the same time.

"Would you all desist!" Lizzy spoke suddenly, her voice full and powerful, silencing us all at once. "I have made my decision, and while I do not deserve your condescension on this matrer, I do request that you all support me in it. I will carry this child, and when it is born, we will send it to a good family. I can provide for it out of my dowry, or... or my pin money, or by taking on some extra work here or there. And when this is all over, I will see your woman about making me infertile. I know a woman who had such done after her 10th child was born still. I should have had it done already, but there it is. I will be barren and all will be well."

"All will most certainly _not b_ e well-" I tried to interject, but one look from her silenced me.

"This is my decision."

"Lizzy-" I growled.

"Don't." She cried out, her voice suddenly sounding as if she were about to cry. "Please, just... don't. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm quite sure Mrs. Jenkinson has found something suitable for me to wear. I would like to ready myself for the evening." And with all the grace of true nobility, she rose and gave a slight curtsey, holding her head high, and leaving the room. My heart pounded heavuly in my chest as I tried to understand exactly where our story had gone so awry.

"So," My Aunt began, haughtily. "How long have you been in love with her?"


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: So yes, it's been a million years and I'm really sorry about that, but I'm already working on the next chapter! Hopefully you are all still with me! Thanks for reading! Please review!**

* * *

 **Elizabeth Bennet**

Pregnant. Everything I had worked so hard to avoid, and here I was cursing a child to either a life plagued by the whims and furies of a madman, or that as an orphan, cast out among society without even a name to call their own. There was that third option of course. But it was no sort of option, not for me, anyways.

But oh why had I gone and blurted it all out in front of Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam? My panic had greatly overcome me and I had given them the power of a deepest of secrets. My husband would now have to be told straight away, lest someone slip up and reveal it all. Perhaps it was lucky I had not realized right away, it gave me the cover of time to give a far later due date, which would explain a still birth or miscarriage when the baby came "early".

"Lizzy?" Anne's soft voice rang out as she knocked on the open doorway. "Did Mrs. Jenkinson get you sorted?"

"Of course. She was more than generous."

"Can I bring you anything else?"

"Anne you've been an incredible host, but truly. I want for nothing, just now, only a bit of solitude." Anne hesitated and took another step in, closing the door behind her.

"The others... they're meeting for a nightcap before they retire for the evening. I could... make your excuses?"

"Please. I'm so sorry to ask this of you Anne, I don't think I could face them all just now."

"It isn't a problem at all, Lizzy. I'll tell them you have quite a headache from all the excitement. Perhaps it will dissuade Mr. Collins from trying to visit at all tonight." She smirked. "And if it doesn't, you needn't worry. The footman has broken off the key in the lock in your interconnected door to Mr. Collins's, and mama has done up a schedule of footmen so that there will always be at least one, but more often two men guarding the hall at all times. Mr. Collins will be far to mortified to have to walk passed them to knock on your door, and if you pretend you were sleeping away, he can hardly blame you for not answering, if he did work up the courage." My husband could blame me for things he only came up with in his own mind, which meant he could certainly blame me for not getting the door and leaving him, to walk passed the footmen, seemingly having been turned away from his wife's rooms. But Anne didn't need that thought in her head, and hopefully, she was right, and he wouldn't even make an attempt. We wished one another good night, and she left. I locked the door behind her, before collapsing on the chaise lounge beside the door, bursting into tears. When did my life get so... horribly complicated? I put my hands, tentatively on my abdomen. A baby. There was a baby in here. No. No, I couldn't focus on that. I had to come up with something else to fixate on. Innocuous things that had happened today, come on Lizzy, think.

Playing piano. It was a lovely song, and I had grown to like it a great deal. My short chat with Mrs. Jenkinson as she brought me several dresses and a nightgown that we both pretended had all been hers in the first place and not things that Lady Catherine had had made for me in a case of emergency. No. That was too dangerously close to... Piano. The piano playing was the safest topic my mind could come up with. Playing the song. Bickering with Darcy, like old times. His hand, covering mine in the shadows of my skirts. His fingers caressing my skin. His hands on mine, setting a fire inside me. The way his eyes looked into mine with such longing and desire... My skin was hot now, too hot, and unable to get the image oh his lips parted as his eyes raked over me out of my head, I tore at the gown I was now in, reaching for nightgown Mrs. Jenkinson had brought for me. A lighter fabric. That's what I needed. It was too damned hot in here. The fire... was low in the grate, and on the far side of the room, the heat barely reaching me. I could hardly blame the few flames barely licking at the grate for the fire burning my skin. No one had ever looked at me like that. Jane, sure. Men looked at her like that all the time, but I was so often standing so close to her, their gazes were often distracted from me by her angelic glow. I could only thank God that my cousin had not been so grossly attached to her. Jane... God I was grateful that Jane was not in my shoes just now.

I would not condemn anyone - let alone my most beloved sister - to this date, but... why must I suffer it? It shouldn't be like this! None of this... my first child, my only child, and I would never get to know him or her. I should be rejoicing at this news, I should be reveling in the joy, the gift of this. I should be finding a way to announce this news to my husband, a man... I sighed. A man who looked at me the way Mr. Darcy had looked at me earlier, a man who lit my very soul aflame ... the way Mr. Darcy's gaze had done to me earlier today, a man who cared for my well being the way the indignant - though admittedly unwelcome - attentions earlier had proven Mr. Darcy did.

It... it wasn't fair. I felt the tears begin to fall as my hands made their way down to my abdomen. It wasn't fair. None of it was fair. For this child even more than I. Destined to be an orphan or to live a life in hell. I knew what the answer should be. Where I in my child's place, I know what I would choose. And yet... the thought of parting from my child was unthinkable. It was almost too much to bear. I rushed to the balcony and flung open the doors, gasping in the crisp, cold, snowy air. My breath was coming too quickly now, and I could feel my head start to spin when I heard it: a man, singing. It was so out of place against the dark and twisted turmoil in my head lately that I couldn't help but stop and take notice. It was... beautiful. Sad, but beautiful. And peaceful. The song was in French, and unfortunately my French was appalling at best, but the sentiment behind the words rang out clearly for anyone with ears. My breathing slowed to the beat of the song, and I could feel my rapid heart beat slow to a normal rate. I sank against the cold stone wall of Rosings and closed my eyes, just listening. Peace. For the first time in months, I felt at peace.

* * *

 **Fitzwilliam Darcy**

A walk around the garden had done me some good, though certainly not enough. She sparked an emotion in me I had no name for this evening. To see a woman care so much for her child yet know that the only option for that child's well-being was to be separated from her forever... her passion and care for this child, her anguish at having to leave them, her certainty at needing to... sterilize herself... It broke my heart but it also made me fiercely proud. The idea of Elizabeth never being a mother, that was unthinkable. Selfishly, the image of her carrying my child in her arms rose to mind and I could feel a lump in my throat. I wanted that. I wanted that more than I could put into words. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I had believed that she would one day be free of the monster, and that when she was, I wouldn't waste time in making her mine. But... it was quite possible that such an event would never come to pass. And if by some miracle I did one day make her my wife... well it might be too late for us to have children. I wrapped my mind around that for a moment. It didn't matter. Not one whit. Georgiana and her children could inherit, I had no need for offspring so long as I had Lizzy. And barring that... as long as she was safe. I glanced in the direction of her rooms, and by extension his, swallowing back the bile which rose at the thought of that monster touching her, hurting her, he'll he didn't deserve to look at her.

I would free her from him. I would make sure she wanted for nothing. I would make sure she was safe, and happy if it was the last thing I did.


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: Phew! Again I am overwhelmed by all the amazing commentary and support I'm getting from you all despite my tendency for infrequent posting. (I am trying to do better!) I soo so wish that some of the anon reviewers using the guest name wouldn't be anonymous because they raise some really good points that I would SO love to discuss with them! Because they haven't I am stuck putting it here in the hopes that they read the author's notes at all, so I apologize to everyone who now has to circle back to old comments to figure out what I'm talking about and/or y'all can feel free to skip to the line where the story starts below. But here goes: So your logic about if Lizzy has a son and THEN something happens to Collins actually being a good thing and everyone in the parlor not seeing that and being stupid because of it or whatever is SUPER logical and from a reader's point of view, with this being a bunch of fictional characters and how that would wrap up nice and tightly, it is a cause for celebration and definitely awesome. But... Lizzy has already made the decision to be a better person than Collins, she has already decided that she doesn't want Darcy or anyone else to purposely harm Collins, and for all she knows, he could outlive her, and gain control of her child. She might die in childbirth, and then he would have sole control of this child, so she's preparing, and getting her mind around the worst possible outcome.**

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 **For the guest who spoke about every society having a way to enact justice... yeah. Sort of. For rich white guys, yeah totally, but that wasn't and definitely ISN'T true for women, people of color, trans or non-cis gendered people, the world wasn't like that and still isn't. Everything I'm saying in this story about law and allowances has been researched and fact checked and is completely plausible. If that were it then I probably wouldn't even object to your statement...** **BUT as I've said before, this story is not just a fic, it is a way for me to work through some not so great shit that happened to me, and past relationships and circumstances that have deeply affected me and those close to me. I know that I am a very privileged person. I am a white, cis, girl from an upper middle class family and that has allowed me a LOT of opportunity and protection from situations that many other people suffer from everyday, but there were still a whole lot more people protecting the guy who I was up against, a lot more people pushing me down, and believing him. Even in 2018 people are left unprotected from this type of abuse, even if it is technically illegal. As such, that is something I felt I would be doing a disservice to if I didn't write it accurately. It would be taking the easy way out, and I'm not about that sort of thing.**

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 **Anyway... after that depressing note... on to a much fluffier chapter!**

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 **LOVE all your comments and questions - I am absolutely loving how people are challenging me to really think about what I'm writing, the realisticness of it, and whether or not that was the right decision for my characters so PLEASE, keep the challenges coming! xoxo - E**

* * *

 **Elizabeth Bennet**

"My dear." My husband's voice was light and happy this morning. Thank God for small blessings at least. "I hope you did not find my lack of visit to your room last night upsetting."

"On the contrary," I said before I could check my words. "That is, you would have found me poor company, husband. I'm afraid I was quite exhausted by the day's pandemonium, and I feel asleep the moment Lady Catherine's maid left the room." He smiled.

"How very kind of her to lend you her staff. How blessed, how fortunate we are for the condescension of her Ladyship." Just then, the woman in question stepped out into the hallway, flanked by one of her favorite footmen. I smiled warmly at my dear friend.

"How fortunate indeed, Mr. Collins."

"Lizzy." She called out to me loudly. "Splendid. I was about to send Henry here out to find you. I could use your assistance on a rather odd task this morning."

"Mrs. Collins would be honored to be of service, your Ladyship." My husband answered for me. "No matter the task at hand, we will always strive to serve you to the best of our ability."

"Very good. My daughter has gotten it in her head to show her cousins around the neighborhood. She thought she felt up to visiting the families in the parish and seeing if they are well given the late winter storm. It is a long day she has planned but she has gotten it in her head that she wishes it and it would be good to see to our tenants . I would feel far more comfortable with the whole scheme if you were there to accompany her."

"Of course your Ladyship, as my husband says, we strive to serve you." I returned in a teasing tone that went above Mr. Collins's head but which she clearly caught. She rolled her eyes a touch at that and nodded briskly.

"Thank you. The servants are getting out one of the sleighs for the four of you to take. Perhaps you may swing by the parish home upon your return and collect a few more things for your husband and your comfort, I wish you two to stay here while my nephews are in town. As you know, I have hopes of Anne marrying one of them, but if I am not around to chaperone, something might be said." Not really. They were cousins, no one would suggest a thing. But I saw what Lady Catherine was up to, and I wasn't about to question her flawed logic now. It would put my kind and the neighborhood gossip at ease if a married woman with such a good reputation as yours, Mrs. Collins, were present for the duration of the young men's stay. This way if she we're yo choose not to Marry the gentleman I had in mind, there would be no question with the next suitor, her chaperone being the wide of such an esteemed parson, do you not think Mr. Collins?" My husband vomited gratitude back in her direction as I pondered the statement. There had been no question in Catherine's mind that Anne would wed Mr. Darcy. And now she was speaking of the possibility that such an event may not occur? What had triggered this?

"Lizzy!" Anne rushes into the hall. "Let us hurry through breakfast, so that we may dress for the day ahead. I shall lend you one of my new cloaks. They are lined with rabbit fur and we shall be quite comfortable despite the newly fallen snow and the cold weather that has accompanied it."

"As always, you are too kind, my dear friend."

"On the contrary." Anne said cheerfully, removing my arm from my husband's and placing it in the crook of her own elbow, escorting me into the dining room. It is I who am in your debt." As we entered the room, the gentlemen already sitting at the table stood instantly, bowing in greeting.

"Miss Eliz-" Mr. Darcy swallowed before correcting himself. "Mrs. Collins. Forgive me. I am so used to your maiden name I seem have trouble remembering to use the married version."

"It is no trouble, Mr. Darcy. How could I blame you when half of the signatures I write in my letters now contain the scratched out beginnings of the name Bennet? I'm certain that eventually it will feel much more natural for all of us tonuse my new name." We fell into silence then, only broken with the colonel wished me a good morning and expressed his sincere delight that I would be joining them on their excursion today. Meanwhile, Catherine was instructing Mr. Collins on a long list of duties he might consider performing today, all of which would keep him quite busy and quite away from me. I smiled in her direction and had to bite my lip to keep from laughing as she winked back.

An hour later, Anne and I were giggling in the snow, as the gentlemen spoke with the driver. The sleigh they had chosen only held four - potentially an attempt by Catherine to keep my husband from tagging along - not exactly subtle, but appreciated. Mr. Darcy had offered to drive the team of four in hand and the Colonel had agreed immediately. The footmen were loading up hot stones and blankets into the seats now and we would he able to take off momentarily. But not before...

A clump of wet snow hit Anne's shoulder and I laughed at the look of shock on her face as she turned around to find the person responsible: me.

"Lizzy!" She laughed gleefully, reaching down to grab some snow with the hopes of retaliating. I dodged her throw easily and grabbed my skirts, running out of her range.

"Cousin!" She called out. "Won't you help avenge me?" Colonel Fitzwilliam jumped to Anne's defense instantly and I was not so lucky as to avoid his snow entirely. I laughed as a few streams of cold water ran down the back of my neck and I was reminded of snow fights at Longbourn, where Jane proved to be a surprisingly accurate throw, and even Lydia pit aside any thoughts of her appearance to join in the fun.

"It appears Mrs. Collins is under siege, cousin!" The Colonel hollered at Mr. Darcy. "Shall you help us finish her off, or come to her aid." I was about to joke that Mr. Darcy hardly seemed the type to play in the snow when a large snowball hit the colonel square in the jaw, knocking him back a few steps.

"I'm surprised you have to ask, Richard!" He turned to me with a wide grin and I was shocked to notice that Mr. Darcy had dimples. "I'm afraid I must ask a great deal of you now, Mrs. Collins, for there is one thing the Darcy siblings do not do, when it comes to playing in the snow, and that thing, is lose. Are you up for the challenge?"

"We shall prevail, Mr. Darcy!" I swore, leaning down to scoop up a big handful. Just as Anne sent a shower of loose snow in our direction I landed a blow on the Colonel that knocked him back into a pile of snow. Mr. Darcy spun around and stared at me, delighted.

"He carries himself chest first. Knock that back hard enough and he's bound to lose his balance and fall."

"A marvel. Get behind me, Miss Bennet, I shall protect you from incoming attacks and you shall be our chief attacker. Our plan worked well as the colonel began to take personal affront to my having knocked him over. He seemed dedicated to throw as much snow at me as possible, but with Mr. Darcy standing before me, and protecting me from the brunt of it, allowing me to safely reign dire on them both, the pair of them soon surrendered.

"Enough!" Colonel Fitzwilliam called out shielding his face. "You are victorious! We admit defeat!" I cried out in joy at that and Mr. Darcy turned to me with that smile which surprised me more and more with each passing moment.

In a moment of jubilation, Mr. Darcy swept me off my feet and spun me around. I could feel my heart lurch into my throat. I had never been held like this. Close. Intimate. Caring. Happy... it set my heart racing and a deep feeling in my gut I had no name for. A hot, deep, feeling, that wasn't exactly what I would call unpleasant.

"We have won!" He cried out. "We must claim our prize!"

"I didn't know we had wagered on the fight, Mr. Darcy." I replied breathlessly.

"An oversight. Our foes must still pay reparations."

"And what do you suggest we pay, cousin?" Anne asked cheerfully, grinning, and, I noticed, still clinging happily onto Colonel Fitzwilliam.

"My fellow victor and I will think of something before the day is out." He replied. "Meanwhile..." He turned to me. "May I escort you to our carriage? Our journey awaits us." I took his arm gently and allowed him to attend to me on our way over. Before we could discuss seating arrangements, Mr. Darcy gripped my hips and lifted me into the front seat of the sleigh. Richard was helping Anne up in the back, laughing over some story or other that I hadn't heard, as Mr. Darcy swung up beside me. He started the sleigh down the road and I smiled as I heard Anne's infectious laugh once again. Richard was good for her, he made her happier, more carefree. It was odd that Catherine had never considered him as an option for Anne.

"I believe you once said you had driven your father's teams of horses before, yes?" Mr. Darcy said after about a mile of traveling in companionable silence, cutting into my thoughts.

"I... in the farm fields only, Mr. Darcy. Not anything like this and certainly not on a sleigh."

"Would you like to?"

"Would I like... to drive them?" He nodded. "Oh Lord, no. Thank you but I'm rather frightened we would all end up in a ditch or up in a tree."

"Nonsense, the horses don't want to go off the trail anymore than you do. There's very little you could do to get us hurt."

"I highly doubt that sir, with news of carriage accidents appearing in the papers every few weeks."

"Fair enough, Lizzy, but I promise I would take the reigns long before you could do any real damage."

"If you promise me that, then what excuse do I have, sir?"

"None, I'm afraid." He said, pairing his words with a charming sort of smile, showcasing his dimples in a most appealing way.

"Very well then." I said, at a loss for any other words. Mr. Darcy handed me the reigns and I took them as gently as I could.

"Here." He said, adjusting my hands for me. "You needn't grip quite so tightly. If I may?" I nodded and one of his arms wrapped around my shoulders, and he placed his hands on top of mine, guiding them in the motions. I certainly didn't _mean_ to lean into him, but he was so warm, and our positions juxtaposed to one another lent itself to the shift. He enveloped me in his arms and he guided my arms through the movements, assisting me in driving the team.

"Wonderful, Lizzy!" Anne called out.

"Nonsense, Mr. Darcy is yet doing most of the work." I replied, admittedly not moving to adjust the situation in any way.

"I don't believe it for a moment." The Colonel cut in jovially, taking a moment to pat his cousin on the shoulder before continuing. "I have never known his driving to be this smooth or enjoyable. I shall attribute it to a joint effort at the very least, and a mastery of the occupation by Mrs. Collins as the more likely reality."

"I know you are simply trying to rile me up, cousin, but you'll find that I don't disagree with you in the least."

"Well I do." I interjected. "But as the vain creature I am, I'll accept you praise, unfounded as it is. And let that be the end to it." Anne and the Colonel laughed and returned to their conversation, but Mr. Darcy did not remove his person from mine.

And I didn't insist that he aught.

Dear Lord in Heaven I was going to hell.

But if the ride was this pleasant, how could I mind?


	14. Chapter 14

**Elizabeth Collins**

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"Perhaps I shouldn't mention it but..." Mr. Darcy began more quietly, much softer than the jabbering of Anne and Colonel Fitzwilliam behind us after leaving the second tenant's home.

"What is it?" I asked, somehow certain that the comment was not one I would mind terribly.

"My aunt." He said definitively. "I have never seen her react to another person so... jovially."

"Was there a question there, sir?" I asked with a smile.  
"How did you do it? If I'm not mistaken you were... sarcastic with her earlier. And she smiled about it. You called her Cate the other day for God's sake. _Cate._ And she let you. Without batting an eye. I have just barely gotten over seeing her as someone who would... protect a person she considered beneath her station." He blanched. "I did not mean to disrespect, or, or..."

"It is no matter, Mr. Darcy. I know what you mean. When I first met her I learned precisely where a lowly gentlemen's daughter, married to a parson stood in her eyes. Had she not discovered our... shared experiences, I am quite certain our relationship would have become one of contention and a constant battle. As it is..." I smiled, thinking of her. "She and I are closer than I am with my own mother. You've met the woman in question, sir. She means well, and I know she loves me, but we are too different to understand one another. Catherine and I... we understand one another. And ultimately our goal is the same."

"Your goal?" He asked, a look of curiosity in his eyes. I turned in my seat and looked back at Anne.

"Our goal." I repeated.

"Do you..." He began. "Never mind." Instinctively I put my hand on his arm. Nearly jumping at the feeling of his muscles pulling at the reigns beneath my finger. I shouldn't have done that. It did nothing to sate the thoughts that had been spinning through my head earlier. I couldn't pull back now. It would seem like I was ashamed... my thoughts would be too obvious. So I left it there, and prayed he would credit my flushed cheeks with the cold wind.

"Tell me." I said, urging him to finish his thought.

"I hope this doesn't offend, madam."

"I will do my best." I returned wryly.

"Do you think my aunt... and you..." He added, voice full of uncertainty, "Are so fixated on _her_ happiness because you think it is too late for your own?" I pulled my hand back, a bit shocked. He swore. "I apologize. I shouldn't have-"

"No. No, it is quite all right, sir. I just... I didn't expect that." I didn't answer him and we rode on in silence, half listening to the conversation flourishing behind us, half lost in our own minds. He slowed the horses as we reached the third home on our list. The Colonel helped Anne out of the back, and Mr. Darcy's hands found themselves on my waist, ready to lift me down. His fingers pressed into my waist and I gasped a little at the fire that erupted in my belly. He lifted me into the air and slowly, methodically, lowered me to the ground directly in front of him. I could feel the heat of his body on mine and my breath was coming out shallow and too quickly.

"Yes." I blurted out. His eyes widened.

"Ye... yes?" He asked me.

"Yes. I think I fixate on Anne's happiness, and that of my sisters, because it is too late for my own." He looked down for a moment before searching out my eyes, his thumb nudging my chin up until I met his eyes.

"It isn't too late, Elizabeth." He murmured, his breath heating my cheeks ever so slightly. "I promise you, it isn't too late."

* * *

 **Fitzwilliam Darcy**

Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn it all to hell and back. Everything was an absolute mess. An absolute mess. My fool mind thought it would be a good idea to wrap my arms around her as we drove the horses. Her hand resting on my arm for longer than could possibly be an accident. Lifting her out the carriage and setting her down far too close to me. Our... conversation. My promise to her.

What in the hell was I doing? We were at the last of Aunt Catherine's tenants' homes and my nerves were entirely shot. The love of my life was wed to a monster. She was expecting the child of that monster. And I had sworn to myself, and now to her, that I would make things right. Only I had no idea how to do that. I needed a plan. I needed a plan to save her. Preferably one that would end up with us together, with her as my wife.

I needed to start by separating her from Collins. The sooner the better. So she was safe while she was under Catherine's roof, but the moment the snow melted, they would have to return to the parsonage, and he couldn't protect her there. The law couldn't protect her there. I thought of the letters I had drafted to my uncles. It wasn't enough. There were more people I knew who would listen to me, who might add their voices to the cause. The law must change. I had to change the law. For Elizabeth, and for women like her, who had no recourse, no protection. I would write more letters as soon as we returned home today. To everyone I knew in or close to the House of Lords. This would change. This must change. And Elizabeth... I had to convince her to leave him. It was that simple. An annulment would be best for her reputation. Perhaps if I could find something... it would be an easier pill to swallow for her. There was the matter of protecting her family. He knew her, and he knew that if there were even the slightest possibility that her family would suffer for it, she would not act. Getting them out from Longborn would certainly take them out from under the thumb of the entail. But would they do it? Mr. Bennet would be far too proud to accept charity, regardless of its intentions, or ability to save his family. And Mrs. Bennet... she could not keep her mouth shut about it, and the shame of it all, taking a home from an unrelated man, with no true connection to the family. Elizabeth, and very likely her sister Jane as well, would never accept such a gift. Perhaps a gift from one who _was_ connected... Bingley. Perhaps that was the key to getting her family away from the line of fire quietly and without scandal.

I could write to Bingley as well. Immediately. And-

"Sir?" My head shot up and I found myself meeting 6 pairs of eyes, each staring at me expectantly.

"Ss... sorry?" I asked. "You must forgive me, I..." I hated to admit I wasn't paying attention to our hosts but I hadn't the slightest idea what they were talking about and-

"Of course Mr. Darcy is too much of a gentleman to take sides." Elizabeth cut in with a smile to the other guests. "I'm afraid we shan't have a tie-breaker at all. We must all be content, smiling as if we are happy to concede, each of us secretly thinking we are correct." The others all laughed heartily at that and I smiled as if I were in on it. The conversation continued without me and I caught Elizabeth's eyes, nodding my thanks. She returned the smile and my heart fluttered at the mischief flashing through her eyes.

 _Oh Lizzy._ I had to stop my scheming for the rest of the visit. It would do me no good to ignore these people. I would meet with my Aunt tonight to discuss my plans. She would have my head if I did not include her. Besides... right now? I just wanted to relish in my time here, with my Lizzy.

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 **Author's Note: So sorry it's been an absolute age since I posted, I really do promise to get you more soon! Anyone have any suggestions, ideas, or scenes you want to see? I know this was kind of dry... my ideas are not there right now. I could do with some prompting! xoxo - E**


	15. Chapter 15

**Fitzwilliam Darcy**

"Are we really having this conversation again?" Lady Catherine asked me with a sigh.

"You care for her. I know you do, don't try to deny it. I can see that this hurts you too."

"And have you a plan for what I am to do? Remember, that while I have granted this man a position for life he is in no way required to accept that position. I am legally unable to fire him, yet if he wanted to retire, he could easily take his wife away in the middle of the night with not a word, and not a single hint as to his destination. So if your plan requires her to be completely at his mercy, alone, with no one to go to for help, you aught not waste your breath."

"Well she won't let us kill him!" Aunt Catherine didn't even look surprised at my outburst.

"I know. I offered the services of a _very_ private man who would have taken care of the situation ages ago and she made me swear not to. Apparently she wishes not to sink to his level and feels murder, or conscientiously allowing another person to murder for your gain would be doing that." Catherine shrugged. "What else did you come up with."

"We need to get her family out from under his thumb. He uses them and their future to threaten her, to make her submit to his will. If they weren't in danger..."

"I can't very well bring them here. Closer to the dangerous man? She would never want her sisters within traveling distance from the lot of them."

"I was thinking... my grandfather's home on the Northern side of town." Catherine sat up a bit straighter.

"You know about that?"

"Your brother got drunk a while back and shared the entire sordid saga. Neither you, nor your brother, nor my mother wanted to touch that place. It just sits alone and empty doing no one any good."

"The home he bought for his _mistress_ and her children."

"Their children." I pointed out calmly.

"Of course we want nothing to do with it."

"Or them."

"Is now the time to have this argument Fitzwilliam?" She asked, exacerbated.

"No. Forgive me. We could sell it to Mr. Bennet for a small price. They could put out a story that they wished to be closer to Mrs. Bennet's brother, and they wished to hire masters for the girls. Anyone who knows them would not be suspicious. Mrs. Bennet has been campaigning being in town for what feels like eons to even those of us who barely know her. And why? Why would they do this? Are we to tell them the truth? Against Lizzy's wishes? Would her father demand to fight for his favorite daughter's honor and get himself killed in the process? Would her mother tell all and sundry? These are fears I have discussed with Lizzy."

"I recommend telling Miss Jane Bennet. She has a good head on her shoulders and far more sway with both her parents than anyone but her realizes. And she would do anything for Lizzy. If we told her how this could help she would not hesitate to do so."

"Hmph." Catherine nodded slowly. "And then what? What is step two in this great and wondrous plan of yours?"

"An annulment. There must be something we can use, something the church approves up that we can prove or... or fake." I hated to be dishonest but in this situation, it seemed the vastly superior option. "If her family were safe, she would agree to an annulment."

"And the child?"

"Convince her she could keep it."

"How? The father would have rights-"

"Not if the stepfather were a far more powerful and wealthy man." Catherine remained silent for a while.

"You would-"

"Only if she would have me. There is a very distinct possibility that she would not. In which case I would do all I could to find a many suitable, worthy, and provide my support to her rights as the child's mother. And who knows. If the child were a girl, that imbecile might not care very much. He might be able to be persuaded to ignore them both for the remainder of his miserable life." Catherine was silent once more. Longer now. And then she sighed.

"How do I find a safe choice for Anne?" She asked suddenly.

"If not you, than who? Who can I trust to keep my Anne safe, to love her, and to be a true husband for her, the way you intend to for my Lizzy?"

"You... you mean you approve?"

"The plan is good. That doesn't mean easy but if it can be done it certainly should and you will have my full support in the whole thing of course and-"

"In me and Lizzy. You approve of my loving and wishing to wed Elizabeth?" Catherine threw her hands up in the air.

"I think you may be the only man in the world who is truly worthy of her. The fact that she could do better than you really only helps our family, does it not? Imagine, after beginning her life with you, coming into herself, riding herself of the ghosts of her past, the true Lizzy, out once more, amongst the ladies of the town? All hell will break loose as they all try to turn themselves into her. She will start riots. It will be as Helen in Troy all over again." I laughed at that but couldn't help frowning a touch.

"When I first... wished for her. The thoughts of my family about her station... they gave me pause. I might have already wed her had I known that you, the Fitzwilliams, and my peers would react to her as you just did."

"Oh don't be foolish, boy. Had you married her before I considered her my second daughter, I would have fought tooth and nail to destroy her and your union. You were right to pause in regards to the reactions of your family. But now... now we will all fight tooth and nail at your side." She reached out and touched my cheek in a way that was almost... maternal. "As your mother and father would have wanted us to from the start, regardless of her place in society. All that would have mattered to Anne was her place in your heart, and I can see now that that place is unmoving." I grasped my aunt's hand in mine and pressed a kiss to it.

"Thank you Aunt, truly."

"I will write to my brother, you pen a letter to Miss Bennet. I will have my solicitor come by this afternoon and we can examine the possibility of an annulment."

"I believe the message to Miss Bennet would be better delivered in person." I admitted, faltering. "I don't like to leave her."

"I will stay by her side. She will be safe."

"I still don't like to leave her."

"The sooner you handle this, the sooner you can make your case to her."

"Right." I nodded. "And... should we tell Lizzy? Should we tell her our plan?"

"She may not let us go through with it."

"It feels wrong to lie to her."

"I will leave that up to you, nephew. I will write my brother about the house and request that I sell it as I see fit. He was disgusted by our father's choices in that matter, and scarred enough from walking in on a rather vivid scene that he doesn't wish to even visit it in order to sell the thing, I think he will be relieved that he can cease all thoughts on the matter. I will begin annulment discussions with the legal expert."

"Very good. And Aunt? When this is all done..."

"Yes?"

"I expect your support on changing the protection granted ladies." Aunt Catherine sat up straighter then, and looked at me with a calculating gaze.

"That will depend entirely on your wording, nephew. After all, you are a man. What could you know about what woman need?"

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 **A/N: Okay so it's super short and I'm very sorry about that but at least I updated! Working on the next chapter presently! Hopefully you all will like it!**

 **I am LOVING your reviews and messages - please keep 'em coming!**


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